His
by Athena Alexandria
Summary: AU. Post The Critic in the Cabernet. Booth struggles with his decision to let Brennan raise their child alone after she uses his sperm to get pregnant.
1. Chapter 1

_Hi there! Some of you will probably know me from my work over on the Lost boards. Some of you might remember me from my unfinished high school fic, 'Evolution' (which I may find time to complete depending on how this goes). Many of you will have no clue who I am. I started this fic because I've seen ones where Booth agrees to sleep with Brennan so that she can have a baby, but none that explore what it would have been like for him if she decided to go ahead with the plan to use him as a sperm donor, which I know is something most of us would have LOVED to have seen. (Like he could ever father a child and walk away). Chapter two is mostly written, along with a couple of others. Feel free to let me know if you have any suggestions for pregnancy/childrearing situations you'd like to see them dealing with and I'll do my best to work them in, if I haven't already. ;)_

_

* * *

_Chapter 1.

"So, when are you going back to the clinic?" Booth asked, folding his arms where he stood at a safe distance from the table, watching his partner work on the skeleton the FBI had sent over that morning. He tried not to sound too interested, when in reality, it was all he could think about since she'd first announced her intentions.

She didn't look up, using a pair of tweezers to pick something from the victim's eye socket. "I've made an appointment for Tuesday. I should be ovulating then."

Tuesday was only five days away. "That's _really_ soon. Are you sure you don't wanna wait until next month? Just so you're sure," he added carefully, aware of how delicate the situation was. The last thing he wanted to do was to offend her by sounding like he was being unsupportive, even if he kind of was.

"I _am_ sure," she insisted, oblivious, as usual, to what he was really trying to say. For an intelligent woman, she sure could be stupid sometimes.

"I just don't think you realise how much having a kid is gonna change your life," he continued. "No more drinks after work. No more research trips to Rwanda. No more casual sex." Which she really shouldn't be having anyway. Didn't she know how dangerous that was?

"You seem to do just fine in that department," she pointed out, glancing up at him with a smirk.

"Yeah, well, Parker doesn't live with me," he reminded her. "Your kid's gonna be around all the time." She'd never spent more than five minutes alone with a child, and now she wanted to be solely responsible for one? "Are you sure you're ready for that?"

She seemed to pick up on his reluctance, even if she couldn't possibly understand the true cause. "If you've changed your mind, I can find another donor," she told him without any outward sign of emotion as she returned to her examination. He couldn't tell if it was because she was upset and trying to hide it, or because it really didn't matter to her whose sperm she used.

Either way, she was giving him an out. All he had to do was take it. He could back out now, no harm, no fowl, but she was still going to go through with it, and just the thought of her carrying another man's child made him feel sick to his stomach. He could lie to himself, and her, but the truth was, he didn't want her to have a baby unless it was his. Not that he could ever tell her that. She would never speak to him again. "What? No. Of course I still wanna do it," he assured her defensively. "I'm just making sure you've really thought this through."

She put her instruments down then, focusing on him for the first time since he joined her on the platform. "I have, Booth. This is what I want. I want a baby."

The resolution in her tone made it impossible to argue. Clearly, her mind was made up. "Okay, but I wanna go with you. When they... " He still couldn't bring himself to say the word. "You know, for moral support." Technically, this was his child. It felt too weird not to be there.

She stared at him for a long moment, mentally dissecting him; just when he was beginning to feel like one of her decomposing corpses, she looked away. "That really isn't necessary, Booth. It's a very simple procedure. The doctor will insert a catheter into my—"

He held his hands up to silence her. "Whoa! Stop right there." He didn't need to hear this. It was unnatural, if you asked him. Maybe it was all due to his Catholic upbringing, but as far as he was concerned, but that wasn't how babies were supposed to be made – in a lab with microscopes and Petri dishes – not unless you'd exhausted all other options, and she definitely hadn't. What was wrong with waiting and doing it the old fashioned way when she found someone that she wanted to share it with? "No need to go into all the gory details."

"I was merely explaining—" Seeing that she still hadn't gotten the message, he covered his ears, causing her to sigh and roll her eyes heavenward. "I don't understand why you're so embarrassed," she was complaining when he tuned in again. "You're already a father, so clearly you know how human reproduction works."

"Sex. I know how _sex_ works," he corrected her. There was a huge difference. Sex was passionate, an act of love – or at least, lust – but what she was proposing was cold and clinical, impersonal. Trust her to find a way to take the most intimate experience two people could share and turn it into some into a kind of scientific experiment to satisfy her own curiosity. It definitely wasn't how he'd imagined his next child coming into the world. Then again, he thought he'd be married to the mother this time.

He decided to try a different approach, one that was guaranteed to win him the argument. "You're gonna need someone to drive you home after, right?" he reminded her, steering the conversation into less sensitive territory before it escalated into a fight and they both wound up feeling hurt. "They'll probably want you to take it easy for a while." He wondered what she would do if he just set up camp in her apartment from now until the end of her pregnancy. That way he could be there for her whenever she needed him, whether it was for midnight runs to the grocery store or just a shoulder to cry on when her hormones got the better of her. He wished he understood why she was so determined to do this alone when he could offer her something so much better, if only she would stop being so damn stubborn.

"I hadn't considered that," she confessed. Her expression softened into a smile and she nodded, conceding, as always, once she saw the logic in this plan."Thanks, Booth. That would be very helpful."

* * *

That was how he wound up in the waiting room of the fertility clinic five days later, flipping through the pages of a trashy magazine in an effort to avoid thinking about what they were doing with the catheter she mentioned.

He must have checked his watch a thousand times before she finally reappeared, dressed in her own clothes, looking exactly as she had when she left him an hour ago, only now… He was torn between nervousness and relief as he watched her walk casually over to the reception desk and pay for the appointment: nervousness that this would change things between them and relief that it was finally done. Whatever happened now, it was out of his hands.

When she was finished, she turned, scanning the room for him, breaking into a smile when she saw that he was still there.

"What happened?" he asked her, standing as she approached him. "Did they...?"

"You mean did they complete the insemination?" she supplied as she returned her wallet to her purse and closed it, slinging it back over shoulder.

He felt his mouth go dry. "Yeah." _That_.

"Yes," she agreed, as if what they were talking about were nothing more serious than a trip to the dentist. "We should know if I'm pregnant in a few weeks." She started for the door, leaving him standing there by the row of chairs, stunned.

"Wow." So that was it. The sperm that he'd agonised over giving her was now somewhere inside her body. That meant that right at this very moment, she could be pregnant, pregnant with a child that was, genetically, half his. He knew he should feel good about helping his best friend, but his stomach was twisted up in knots.

She paused with her fingers on the door handle, fixing him with a confused frown. "Aren't you coming?"

He shook himself out of it, trailing after her to the lift, where they stood in awkward silence, waiting for the car to take them back down to the lobby. The whole situation was so strange that he didn't know what to say to her. In fact, for all the tension between them, they might as well have had sex. It certainly would have been a lot more fun than what was happening now.

"Do you think it worked?" he asked her finally.

Instead of answering his question, she launched into one of her rehearsed sounding spiels. "The statistical likelihood of—"

But when she moved to step out, he caught her arm gently. "Bones." He didn't want to hear about statistics. He wanted to know what was going on inside that brilliant mind of hers. Surely he wasn't the only one freaking out.

It was the same dance that they'd been doing for years: she tried to suppress her emotions with facts and he refused to let it go until she confronted them. He knew that he'd gotten through to her when her she slumped back against the wall. "I thought I'd feel different afterwards, but I don't," she confessed, and for the first time, it occurred to him that maybe this was about more than just passing on her genes. Maybe she really did have her heart set on being a mother. Stranger things had happened. "What if it that means it didn't work?"

Oh God. She wasn't going to cry, was she? He hated it when she cried. Wasn't that what had gotten him into this situation in the first place? He didn't want to disappoint her. Her family had done enough of that.

He wrapped his arm around her slim shoulders, pulling her into his side, pleased as always when she rested her head against him. He wasn't sure why, but she trusted him above all others. That was why he couldn't afford to let her down. "Then we'll try again next month," he promised, despite his reservations on the subject. If having a baby was that important to her, then he was going to do everything in his power to make that happen. She deserved to get everything that she wanted from life, regardless of his personal feelings. "And we'll just keep trying until you _are_ pregnant."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

"I took a home pregnancy test this morning," Brennan blurted out without warning on the drive back from Georgetown where they'd been interviewing potential witnesses.

Booth was so caught off guard by her sudden announcement that he almost swerved across the divider into oncoming traffic. More than two weeks had passed since he took her to the clinic to be inseminated; during that time, he'd almost managed to forget that the whole thing was more than just a bad dream. "Bones, why didn't you tell me?" he asked her. He'd been with her for hours and yet this was the first time that it had occurred to her to mention that she might in fact be pregnant with his child.

He could see that he'd lost her when she frowned at him in confusion. "I just did."

After more than four years together, you'd think he would have learnt to be more specific when talking to her. "I mean sooner," he explained. "You could've called me. I would've come over." He imagined them sitting side by side on her couch with the test between them while they waited for the results, wondering what he would have done if he had been there. Would he have been able to keep his mouth shut if she was pregnant?

"We agreed you weren't going to be involved," she reminded him and for a moment he was afraid that she'd caught on to his thoughts, until he realised that she was only responding to what he'd just said. "I didn't want to bother you with this until I was sure."

"I wouldn't exactly call it _bothering_ me," he insisted. He was her best friend. Of course he wanted to know what was going on in her life. "So?" The suspense was killing him.

She shifted in her seat, staring ahead at the road. "My Human Chorionic Gonadotrophin levels were sufficient to achieve a positive result."

Half of what she'd said went over his head, but the positive part he heard loud and clear. "You're pregnant?" he repeated to make sure that he hadn't misunderstood. Everything was a riddle with her; she was the most direct person he knew and yet she rarely just came out and said anything when it was about herself.

"It appears so, yes," she agreed. "Although those tests are only ninety-seven per cent accurate."

Ninety-seven per cent sounded pretty accurate to him. At least it had been with Parker. He felt a fleeting surge of male pride on hearing that his boys were as good as he'd boasted, but it was tempered with anxiety. He hadn't expected it to happen on the first try. If he was honest with himself, right up until this moment, part of him had believed that she would give up on the idea when she found out that it hadn't worked, and things could go back to normal. Now nothing would ever be normal between them again. "That's great. A baby. Wow. Are you excited?"

Sneaking a glance at her, he saw that her expression was far from overjoyed. He wondered if she was having second thoughts, like he was, now that this was all becoming real. It had all happened so quickly. "Eighty per cent of miscarriages occur within twelve weeks of conception. The books say I should wait until at least the second trimester before forming an emotional attachment to the embryo. Or foetus, as it will be called then."

He knew her well enough by now to recognise when she was being evasive. "Come on, you must feel _something_," he pressed her. Where was the woman who, not three weeks ago, had looked him in the eyes and told him that she wanted a baby?

"I find that I am excited, but also worried about my child's development," she agreed finally.

Suddenly it made sense. After everything that she'd lost, she was afraid of losing this too. "So what you're saying is, you're worried that something will be wrong with the baby," he translated, feeling guilty about trying to make this about him. She deserved to have at least one person in her life who wouldn't abandon her; who would show her that love didn't always mean pain. "Look at you. Thinking like a mom already." He wasn't sure if that made what she was asking him to do easier, or harder. On the one hard, it assured him – not that he needed reassuring – that his child would be looked after. She was rich; their child would never go without anything… except him. On the other hand, the thought that he wouldn't be the one to take care of them didn't sit well with him. She would say that it was his alpha male tendencies coming through but he knew that it was more than that."So what happens now?"

"I've made an appointment with my gynaecologist to confirm the pregnancy. Then I suppose I will have to tell Cam so that she can begin looking for a replacement for when I go on maternity leave."

She was so focused on the details; he wondered if the reality of what was happening to her had actually sunk in. "Y'know, Bones, it's customary to celebrate before you start making arrangements."

"Is that what you and Rebecca did when you found out she was pregnant with Parker?" she asked curiously.

She just had to go there. While he knew that she was just being her usual inquisitive self, pursuing a line of scientific inquiry, this didn't stop him from becoming defensive. "That was a completely different situation, all right?" he protested, but deep down, he wasn't so sure. He was about to become a father again, to another child who wouldn't live with him, who he would only see on weekends and if he was lucky, holidays, only this time, he wouldn't have any rights because they'd already agreed that it wasn't his kid. He would just be Good Old Uncle Booth. Mom's friend. What if she never told him the truth? Would he have to go on pretending that that was all their relationship was? Or worse, what would he say when he asked him about his father? Did she really expect him to lie? "Parker wasn't planned. This baby was." At least on her part. It was all she could talk about since the idea first came to her. "I mean, this is what you wanted, right?"

She smiled. "Right." Was he imagining things, or did it look a little stale? She cocked her head to the side in that way that told him that she was contemplating something. "Would _you_ like to celebrate with me?" she asked hopefully. "You _are_ my partner."

And the baby's father, his mind screamed. He never should have said yes. He should have let her use Fisher's sperm like she'd suggested. Then maybe he could be happy for her, instead of conflicted.

Of course he never had been any good at refusing her. She had him in her thrall in a way that no other woman – even Rebecca – had ever come close to."Of course," he agreed. He wouldn't be much of a friend if he let her go home to an empty apartment. "I would offer to buy you a drink, but..." His eyes wandered inadvertently down to her stomach, which was still as flat as ever. He tried to imagine what it would look like in a few months. He bet she would make a cute mother-to-be, waddling around the lab in her navy lab coat with her belly sticking out past her toes.

She smiled again, a genuine smile, this time. "You're afraid that if you do, the child will suffer from Foetal Alcohol Syndrome," she finished.

Those weren't the words he would have chosen – who talked like that, except for her? – but they were close enough_. _"Something like that," he agreed, returning her smile. "So maybe I could just take you to dinner?" As soon as he said it, he regretted it. He was just the sperm donor. Donors didn't take the recipients out for dinner to celebrate; that was too much like something a real father would do.

But the offer was already out there. It was too late for him to take it back without hurting her. "Dinner would be nice."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

"You look beautiful," Booth told Brennan when he arrived to pick her up for dinner. "You have that glow." He'd been aware of his attraction to her from the moment he walked into the lecture hall and saw her – who knew they made squints like that? – but somehow the knowledge that she was carrying his child had elevated her to the level of goddess. It was only going to get worse once she started showing.

He could see that she didn't believe him. "That's a myth," she complained, laughing it off, before turning serious. "But I understand that you were trying to give me a compliment, so thank you." She cast an appreciative glance over him, her eyes travelling from the muscles of his chest, down to his Cocky belt buckle, and back up to his face. "You look very nice too." She said it quickly, clearly uncomfortable with the almost date-like turn the evening had taken.

His gaze flicked down to her lips, and not for the first time, he tried to imagine what she would do if he took advantage of the moment to kiss her, the way he might have if she were any other woman he was interested in. She would be pissed, he decided, and would find some excuse to cancel their plans, and even avoid him, because even though they had already conceived a child together – albeit indirectly – as always, her abandonment issues prevented her from taking the next step with him. He wondered if he would ever be able to find a way to get through to her, or if they were doomed to keep stalling in neutral.

As a recovering gambler, he knew he shouldn't take the risk with the odds stacked so high against him, so he offered her his elbow instead. "Shall we?"

She accepted it with a smile, linking her arm through his. "I thought of a name today," she told him on the walk to the elevator.

The words took him by surprise; it was the first time that he'd heard her talk about her baby as more than just a cluster of cells. "Really? What's that?"

"Kermit," she revealed proudly and he realised that it was a good thing she hadn't waited until during the meal to tell him or else he would have choked. "He was the son of the hero, Diarmaid in Irish legend. It means 'Free man'."

Trust her to choose a name that most people wouldn't wish on their worst enemy and then try to back it up with an anthropological explanation. "You can't call your kid Kermit, okay? It sounds like a Muppet," he argued, causing her to frown.

"I don't know what that means."

Of course she didn't. "Just trust me on this one, all right? Kermit is a terrible idea. Why don't you just name him Jacob or Matthew or something?" It was bad enough that she wanted their son to grow up without a father to teach him how to defend himself; he wasn't about to let her give him a name that was likely to get him his ass kicked in the playground.

"It was good enough for Theodore Roosevelt," she pointed out, trying to win the argument, he knew, by appealing to his patriotic side.

There was no way that she was going to win this. If she put Kermit on the birth certificate then he was suing for custody. "Yeah, well, that was before Jim Henson," he told her, despite knowing that she wouldn't have a clue who that was.

"So where are we going?" she asked, letting go of him when they reached the elevator. "Because I would've been fine with doing what we always do."

"You can't celebrate the biggest event of your life with a burger at the Royal Diner – or worse, take out," he insisted, punching the button for the ground floor. She deserved so much better than that: flowers, romance, all of that Hallmark crap. He wanted to give it to her but he knew that she would only reject it… and him. That was why she'd opted to have a baby through artificial insemination, instead of letting him make love to her like he'd fantasised about since the night at the bar when she almost gave in to him.

"Apparently there're a lot of things I can't do," she muttered, loud enough that he could still hear her.

Was he really that controlling? It wasn't that he'd set out to hijack her pregnancy: he just wanted her to give him a say. "How does Lebanese sound?" he said, deciding that it was better not to engage with her. He didn't want to fight with her tonight.

"You hate Lebanese," she reminded him, sounding sceptical. "You think it's too urban and trendy."

"But you don't," he agreed, taking her shoulders and steering her into the elevator. "And tonight is your night."

* * *

"You took her to dinner?" Sweets repeated incredulously, looking from Booth to Brennan. "After you told him you were pregnant?" Booth thought the psychologist was going to have a heart attack when Brennan first broke the news. He went apoplectic.

"That's right," she agreed. "We always have dinner together. Why do you look so shocked?"

"Don't you see what this is?" They both shook their heads. "This is the surrogate relationship I was talking about, only now with Dr. Brennan pregnant, you could say it's become a surrogate _family_."

"That's ridiculous." She tore her attention from Sweets, nudging his arm as she leaned in to murmur. "Booth, tell him that's ridiculous."

"That's ridiculous, okay, Sweets?" he agreed, even though he could kind of see his point.

"Is it?" Sweets pressed. "The baby hasn't even been born yet and you're already doing all the things one would expect from a husband or partner, just without the sex. You drove Dr. Brennan to the clinic to be inseminated with the sperm that _you_ gave her and when you found out she was pregnant, you didn't just congratulate her - you offered to celebrate with her. And I distinctly remember that the last time you were both in here, talking about this, you suggested that she might like to breastfeed. Do you see a pattern emerging here?"

Somehow Sweets had managed to sum up everything that he'd been feeling since this baby thing began, but try telling her that. She thought this should all be simple. "You're just twisting it so that it fits in with your book. Bones wanted a baby so I gave her my stuff. End of story. Everybody's happy."

But Sweets was like a dog with a bone. "Are you? Happy? For Dr. Brennan, I mean."

He could feel her eyes on him as she waited for his answer so he gave the one that he knew she wanted to hear. "Of course! She's my partner."

The psychologist raised a dubious eyebrow at him. "That's it?"

No! "Yeah. Why does everything have to be some complicated with you? Wasn't it Freud who said 'Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar'?"

The smile Sweets gave him was more akin to a smirk. "Freud said a lot of things."

* * *

Booth was working on filing his final report when Brennan stormed in. "I need you to sign these," she said, dropping a manila folder onto the desk in front of him.

He opened it slowly, dazed by her sudden appearance in his office. He'd dropped her off at the Jeffersonian after their appointment with Sweets and yet here she was, back again. "What for? The case?"

She shook her head. "I had my lawyer fax them over," she explained. "They just say that in exchange for you giving me your sperm I am willing to accept full custodial and financial responsibility for the child."

So that's what this was about. It wasn't enough that he'd given her his word: she wanted him to sign over his paternal rights so that he couldn't change his mind. He shoved his chair back and stood up. "You didn't think you should discuss this with me first? I already told you I didn't need legal protection. It's your kid. I know that."

"I know," she agreed, "but after what Sweets said, I thought we should make it official so that there wouldn't be any confusion about your obligations."

Sweets. He was gonna kill that kid. None of this would be happening if it wasn't for him and his stupid word association game. "You can't just go around making decisions for people," he seethed with more hostility than he'd intended. "That's not how a partnership is supposed to work."

As usual, she didn't seem to understand why her actions might be considered wrong. "Why are you so upset?"

"I'm not upset."

"You're yelling."

He hadn't even realised that he was until she pointed it out. He picked the folder up off the desk. "You know what this says to me?" he asked, waving at her for emphasis. "It says that you don't trust me. That you think I'm the kind of guy who would back out on a promise. Is that what you think?" But beneath his hard exterior, he couldn't help feeling guilty; after all, wasn't that exactly what he'd been considering doing ever since she announced that she was pregnant?

She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "No, that's not what I meant," she insisted, struggling to undo the injury that she'd caused him. "I just wanted to make sure that me being pregnant isn't going to affect our partnership."

How could she be naïve enough to believe that it wouldn't? That he could just walk away from her and their child and not care what happened to either of them? "Look, Bones, I've seen what happens when lawyers get involved," he told her, dropping the folder back onto his desk, softening when he saw how remorseful she was. Whatever her reasons for having the paperwork drawn up, it was clear that she hadn't done it to spite him. "Can't we just agree to keep this between us?" The last thing he wanted was to be dragged into another messy custody battle. At least this way, he could see the kid whenever he wanted.

He was relieved when she nodded. "I'm sorry, Booth. I was just trying to do what I thought was best for all of us."

The best thing for all of them was for them to be together. "Y'know, Sweets was right about one thing," he told her gently, causing her to glance up at him in alarm. "We are a surrogate family – you, me, Angela, Hodgins, Cam, even him. You don't have to do this alone, all right? No one's asking you to."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

Brennan wasn't in her office when Booth stopped by to check on her. He hadn't noticed her on the platform when he came in; figuring that she must be in one of the smaller exam rooms, he turned away from her door, coming face to face with Cam in the process.

"Camille," he greeted her nervously, not sure he liked the look she was giving him. He'd seen it before, only it was usually directed at Michelle. "Where did you come from?" It was obvious that she'd followed him.

She didn't waste time on pleasantries. "Can I talk to you in my office?" she asked him and he felt his heart sink. She knew. What else was there to talk about?

"Sure," he agreed, feeling like a naughty schoolboy being sent to the principal's office as he walked with her to the other end of the corridor.

There was a chance that it had nothing to do with Brennan or the baby, so he stood with his hands on his hips, waiting to hear what she had to say before he revealed his hand.

"So I hear Dr. Brennan is pregnant," she began once she'd closed the door behind them.

So he was right. She did know. "She told you?" Who else had she told?

"She had to. I'm her boss." That was good. That meant she was the only one. For now. "I gotta say, I didn't think you had it in you, Seeley."

"You didn't think I could still get a girl pregnant?" he complained. He might be staring down the barrel of forty, but if this didn't prove how virile he was, then he wasn't sure what would. He let out a haughty chuckle. "Because I think we've established that I can."

He could see that she wasn't amused. "What I mean is, I didn't think you'd be able to go through with what she's asking you to do."

First Sweets, now Cam. Who was next? Angela? It wasn't like they were seventeen. They knew what they were doing. "Bones and I have an agreement. This was never my kid." He was beginning to lose track of how many times he'd said it. One of these days he might actually believe it.

But Cam had always been harder to fool than even Brennan. They'd been friends for too long. "You say that now, but I know you. You're gonna get attached and then you're gonna get your heart broken. It's what you do."

"So I'll get over it," he insisted. It couldn't be that hard. Thousands of babies were put up for adoption each year and somehow their birth parents managed to get on with their lives. It wasn't like he wouldn't get to see it all the time. Besides, he already had a kid.

"How?" she pressed, becoming increasingly exasperated with him. "This isn't just going to go away. Have you even thought about what it's going to be like for you to see that child every day? _Your_ child? And what about Parker? How do you think he's going to feel when he realises that the kid he's been playing with looks just like him?"

Oh God. Parker. He'd been so busy trying to convince himself that the baby wouldn't be a part of his life that he hadn't considered how this would affect him. How was he going to explain this to him? And what would Rebecca say? She wouldn't be happy with the example he was setting, that was for sure. "What am I supposed to do, Cam? Tell her to have an abortion?" he insisted. Even if he could find it in his heart to crush her hopes for a family of her own, it was too late to pull the plug now. She was already pregnant. There was no way he was going to talk her out of having the baby.

"This is Brennan we're talking about," she reminded him with a smile. "You think she'd listen to you if you did?"

He had to agree with her there. No one could make Temperance Brennan do anything. He knew that better than anyone.

"I know you care about her," Cam continued gently, "but at some point, you're going to have to start thinking about doing what's right for you and something tells me that this isn't it."

* * *

Angela was lurking out on the landing when he left Cam's office. She was holding a clipboard, apparently on her way to see the boss, but if he didn't know any better, he would guess that she was spying. "Hey, Angela. Do you know where Bones is?" he asked her, trying his best to sound normal.

The artist made a sympathetic sound. "I don't think she's feeling too hot today. She refuses to admit it, of course, or you know, go home, but she was hugging the porcelain throne last time I saw her, poor thing."

She had that look: the one that said "We need to talk about Brennan". "Thanks!" he called, hurrying off in search of his partner again before she could interrogate him about her behaviour. She should hear it from her best friend first. That, and he was slightly afraid that she might try to castrate him when she found out that he'd let her go ahead with the plan.

He knocked on the door of the women's bathroom nearest her office, poking his head inside when this failed to draw out a response, but there was no sign of her either.

When he finally tracked her down in the lounge, she was slumped against the back of the couch with her eyes closed, holding a glass of ice water to her forehead. Angela was right when she said she wasn't feeling well. It wasn't like her to let anything short of death keep her from her work. If he'd had any doubts that she was really pregnant, he didn't anymore. "You okay, Bones? You're looking a little pale."

"Booth." She started, lowering the glass and using her elbows to sit up straight, embarrassed at being caught out in a moment of weakness. "What are you doing here? We don't have a case."

"I came by to see how your check up went," he explained, dropping onto the couch beside her.

"It was fine. I'm slightly anaemic – which is very common in women who are also vegetarians – but otherwise in good health. Based on their calculations I'm due on the second of February."

"You could have a Valentine's Day baby," he teased her, bumping her shoulder lightly with his. "How romantic is that?"

If looks could kill, he would have been dead. "There's nothing romantic about childbirth, Booth," she scoffed. "And Valentine's Day is the fourteenth. It's unlikely that my doctor would allow me to deliver more than a week overdue. Besides, it's not a real holiday."

He wasn't sure if it was the morning sickness or the mood swings he'd heard so much about but she was definitely crankier than usual. "You're only saying that because you're single."

"I'm saying that because the original meaning has been lost," she complained. "These days it's more about mass-produced greeting cards than courtly love."

Since when did she even believe in love? He considered reminding her that she disagreed with anyone who said that about Christmas, but decided that that would be too cruel when she clearly wasn't up to one of their verbal sparring matches. "So is that all she said?" he asked, directing the conversation back to what happened at her appointment.

"I'm barely six weeks along. What else would they have said?"

"Six weeks?" he repeated, not sure if he should feel angry or relieved. It was only four since he took her to the clinic; for a brief moment, he wondered if there was more to the story than he'd thought, but then he remembered that she'd said she wouldn't be ovulating until that day. Besides, the woman he knew would never be that careless.

"Gestational age is measured from the first day of the mother's last menstrual period or fourteen days prior to conception," she explained for his benefit. "Hence the additional two weeks."

Then it was still his kid. "So technically our baby is already more than a month old?" he asked, not realising what he'd said until she stiffened, her face registering the betrayal. "I didn't mean our like _our_," he assured her, backpedalling. He'd gotten so used to thinking it that way that it had just slipped out. "It's just a figure of speech."

She relaxed at his assurance that he wasn't about to breech the terms of their agreement but didn't say anything in response. "I scheduled my first prenatal appointment for a fortnight from now when the heart should have developed enough to be detected on an ultrasound," she announced, staring down into her glass.

"You mean you'll actually be able to hear his heartbeat?" he asked, excited despite himself.

"Hopefully, yes," she agreed. "I'm told it's very life-affirming."

Too bad he wouldn't be there to see it. "Y'know, I missed out on all of that with Parker," he confessed.

After everything that he'd told her about his history with Rebecca, this still seemed to surprise her. "You never went to any of the appointments?" she asked and he could feel her slowly coming back to him from wherever she just was.

"We'd already broken up by then," he reminded her. She never told him she was going until afterwards and patient confidentiality agreements prevented him from finding out the name of the practice without a warrant or else he might have called every one in D.C. "Rebecca emailed me the pictures, but it's not the same as actually being there, y'know?" It was something that he would always regret. Fortunately his lack of involvement in his son's early life hadn't prevented them from forming a close relationship.

She nodded sadly. "You could come with me," she offered, flashing him a tentative smile.

He knew what Sweets would say about that. If he wanted to stop feeling like the father then he needed to stop acting like it. "No, Bones, I don't think that's—" he began to protest but she cut him off.

"Yes, Booth," she insisted, her tone making it clear that she wasn't going to take no for an answer. "What Rebecca did to you wasn't fair. You should experience that at least once in your life."

A little voice in his head told him that he should practice saying no, but it wasn't his mind that was in control. He smiled, touched by her clumsy, but heartfelt attempt to make up for the past. "Thanks, Bones."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

"I think Angela is getting suspicious," Brennan confessed on the ride to her doctor's office.

"Well stomach bugs don't usually last more than a couple of days," Booth agreed. Angela was her closest friend after him, and unlike him, she was a woman. He couldn't understand why she wouldn't just tell her and put them both out of their misery. When he asked her, she'd said that she wanted to wait until she was further along in her pregnancy, in case there were any unforseen complications, but he was beginning to wonder if it wasn't more to do with the fact that she was still in denial, trying to pretend that her life wasn't about to change in ways that she couldn't even imagine yet.

"I've found that by eating small portions of foods rich in vitamin B6 I am able to control the nausea," she said, explaining how she'd been able to conceal her morning sickness from everyone at the lab, including her extremely observant best friend.

While he was glad to hear that she was feeling better, that didn't stop him from wishing that she would let him do something to help her. The first few times he saw her like that, he was struck by a powerful urge to pull her into his lap and give her a tummy rub, but he was afraid that if he didn't respect the boundaries that she'd set, he would scare her into changing her mind about letting him come to the appointment. "You know what Rebecca said worked for her? Peppermint tea. You should try it."

"Traditionally, peppermint does have a long history of medicinal use," she agreed. "It's thought to relax the muscles along the intestinal tract, preventing spasms and therefore reducing the inclination to vomit."

Despite all the talk about vomit, as usual, he was impressed by the vast quantities of information her mind contained."Is there anything you _don't_ know?"

She gave him a strange look. "Of course. I don't know if there's life on other planets or how the universe began or what dark matter is made of…"

He wasn't even sure what dark matter _was_. He jerked his head at her midsection. "That is gonna be one smart baby." Secretly, he was pleased by the idea that his kid was going to be some kind of certified genius like his mom. Maybe he would grow up to do something really important, like winning the Nobel Prize or discovering the cure for cancer. Not that he wouldn't be proud of him anyway (or her, for that matter); Parker was average and he couldn't love him more than he already did. But a baby Bones… Now that would be something special.

"There's no conclusive evidence to suggest that intelligence is genetic," she argued. "And even if there was, there're still your genes to consider."

Had he just imagined the contempt in her tone? "Wait, did you just call me stupid in front of the kid?"he asked, snapping back to reality. It wouldn't be the first time she'd made him feel like a dumb jock.

"It can't hear us, Booth. It doesn't even have ears," she corrected him, missing the point as usual. One day it would, and when that day came, he wanted it to respect him. "And I didn't call you anything. I merely pointed out that your IQ isn't as high as mine."

As irrational as he knew the thought was, he couldn't help wondering if that was part of why she didn't want to raise the baby with him: she didn't think he would make a suitable father for it because he wasn't as smart as her. And she would probably be right. There was no way someone like him would be able to keep up with the child of Dr. Temperance Brennan."Yeah, well, let's hope that it doesn't take after you because the last thing we need around here is another squint," he retorted, shocking her into silence.

"Bones, I'm sorry. That didn't come out right," he tried to apologise, but he could see that she didn't believe him.

"You think it would be a bad thing if my child was like me," she said quietly, her tone a mixture of sadness and resignation.

To someone as literal as her, he might as well have told her that he hated her. It would have had the same effect.

He hadn't meant to be so harsh with her. He was just frustrated by her inability to consider his feelings, which made him a hypocrite now, he realised, because that was exactly what he'd just failed to do when he issued her with the verbal equivalent of a slap in the face. "What? No!" Of course he wanted it to be just like her. In spite of all her flaws, she was still the most perfect woman he knew. Why else would have agreed to have a child with her?

"That's what you just said," she insisted, turning to stare out the passenger side window, her whole body arching towards it as if she were trying to get as far away from him as possible in the cramped space. If she wasn't pregnant, he was sure she would have jumped.

His words had preyed on her deepest fears. There had to be some way to make this right. "That is not what I meant," he argued gently, wishing that she would make eye contact with him so that she could see how sincere he was. "Y'know, there's a lot more to you, Bones, than just your intelligence. You're beautiful, confident, you say what's on your mind, and you never let anyone push you around." A tiny smile played at the corners of her lips; deciding to tease it out of her, he continued, "And when you're not insulting me, you're actually a really nice person. I wouldn't mind if the baby inherited some of that too." As much she he loved that genius brain of hers, he loved her huge heart more. That was what was going to make her such a great mom, not her doctorate, or any of the other degrees that she thought defined her.

She stopped fighting her smile, an adorable pink flush creeping into her cheeks. "Thanks, Booth. While I admit that I would be disappointed if my child did not share my propensity for knowledge, I hope that he or she has your empathy."

* * *

Just like on the day of her insemination, he sat out in the waiting room, surrounded by couples and pregnant women, while the doctor examined her, only this time, he was filled with nervous excitement. He hadn't even seen the baby yet and despite his best efforts, he was already falling in love with it.

"I thought you said you used a sperm donor to get pregnant?" he heard the doctor ask Brennan when the receptionist let him in for the ultrasound.

His partner was lying on the exam table in a flimsy hospital gown; thankfully, she had a blanket draped over her thighs, preventing him from seeing anything.

She had tucked one arm tucked beneath her head like a pillow, watching him come in. "Booth _is_ my donor," she agreed, acknowledging him with a smile.

The doctor, who was about Brennan's age, inspected him as if he were a stud on offer for breeding. In any other context he would have enjoyed the attention from a woman who obviously found him attractive, but inside the sterile environment of the exam room, it made him feel like a walking sperm bank. "You brought your donor to your appointment?" she asked in a dubious tone and Booth wanted to hug her for pointing out how crazy this whole situation was.

"It's unconventional, I know," his partner agreed, "but Booth and I are friends. He was curious about the baby so I invited him to come along," she finished, making him sound nobler than he was in reality.

The doctor turned to him with a smile. "Well, Mr. Booth—"

"It's Agent Booth, actually," Brennan corrected her. "Booth is an FBI agent."

"Seeley is fine," he assured her, not sure why that particular detail was so important.

He regretted it when the doctor's smile brightened, becoming almost flirtatious. "Okay, Seeley, why don't you go stand over there and we'll get started."

As he moved over to the place the doctor indicated, near Brennan's head, he noticed that his partner seemed upset. Her eyes were glazed and her mouth was set in a thin line. He put his hand on her shoulder, surprised at how tense it was. If he didn't know any better, he would say that she was jealous. "Everything okay?" he asked her.

"Fine," she agreed, shaking off whatever was bothering her.

"What is _that_?" he asked her as he watched the ultrasound technician sterilise a long, thin instrument attached to a cord.

Brennan seemed surprised by the question."That's the transducer," she explained. "It coverts energy into ultrasound."

His eyes widened with shock when he realised what she was going to do with it. "I thought they just slapped on some gel and…" he trailed off, embarrassed on her behalf.

She didn't seem fazed; in fact, he could tell by her smile that she was amused by his modesty. "Abdominal ultrasounds aren't sensitive enough to be used at this stage of pregnancy. Right now the embryo is only about half an inch long."

He brought his finger and thumb together until they were that far apart."Wow," he breathed. That meant that it was no bigger than a peanut. "It's hard to believe we all started out that tiny."

"There we go," the technician announced, "That's your baby," and they both turned to look at the monitor, where he could just make out a small grey blob floating inside the black oval of his partner's womb. Their little peanut.

He crouched down beside her to get a better view. "See those dark areas there?" she said, pointing to what appeared to be a head and he nodded mutely, to overcome to speak. "That's where the eyes and nostrils are forming."

He squinted at the screen, awed when he realised that she was right."What a handsome little guy." He tore his eyes away from his child, flashing her his trademark 'Cocky' grin_._ "He gets that from me, you know."

"How can you tell how attractive it is?" she complained. "It doesn't even have distinct facial features yet."

"Hey," he murmured, serious again. "You don't get to be cynical right now. That's your baby." She might not appreciate that now, but she would seven or eight months from now when she finally saw that little boy or girl in the flesh.

She seemed to take his words to heart as she went back to studying the screen, surprising him by saying, "It is kind of cute," and watching her face soften into an affectionate smile, he didn't think he could love her any more than he did at that moment. "Although I still don't see how you can say it looks like you." There was his Bones again.

They fell into a contented silence as they continued to focus on the image on the screen, until he became aware of a new sound in the room. "Do you hear that?" the technician asked them, turning up the volume so that the steady pulse filled the room. "That's the baby's heartbeat."

"That's amazing." He could feel himself tearing up, and when he glanced over at his partner, she was misty-eyed too. "Bones, are you crying?"

"No." Her voice rose defensively as she tried to brush the evidence away with her fingers_. _"It's an involuntary hormonal response caused by the increase in my progesterone levels."

She could be so full of crap sometimes. He pulled her hand away from her face, wrapping it tightly in his. "Yeah, you were crying," he teased her, squeezing it gently, and this time, she didn't try to correct him.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6.

Booth walked into Brennan's office to find her sitting at her desk, holding her shirt up with one hand while she explored the slight curve of her belly with the other. To the unsuspecting eye, it looked like she'd just eaten too much Chinese food with him over late night paperwork, but he could see that it was still as hard and firm as it had been before she got pregnant and he wondered what it would feel like to touch it. That was another thing that he'd missed with Parker.

"How's our little peanut doing today?"he asked, coming further into the room.

She glanced up at him in surprise, letting her shirt fall back into place."There are no peanuts here, Booth," she pointed out, frowning at him until understanding dawned on her, causing her to break into a delighted grin. "Oh. You were talking about the baby because it's roughly the size and shape of a peanut."

She was so cute when she was proud of herself. "What did you think I was talking about, Bones?" he teased her gently, perching on the edge of her desk.

"The peanut," she began, adopting his nickname, "is more like an olive now, if the difficulty I had buttoning my pants this morning is any indication." Her voice took on what sounded to him like a note of suggestion as she continued, "It's not the only thing that appears to be growing. My breasts are quite large now."

He swore by the way her eyes locked on his that she was doing it on purpose, to torture him. He couldn't help but look where she directed. And admire. She'd always had an amazing body, but somehow pregnancy had made it even sexier. "Y'know, Bones, they do that," he agreed, forcing himself to stop staring at her.

"Breasts?"

"No, kids," he corrected her, desperate to get off the subject. "Parker went through three pairs of sneakers last year."

She grew silent at this, lost in a private daydream.

"What?" he asked her after a moment, curious as to what had gotten her so quiet all of a sudden.

"I was just thinking about some sneakers I saw at the store the other day," she explained, smiling at the memory.

He'd really never pictured her as the kind of woman who lost it over baby clothes, but then she'd never really expressed much interest in babies until she'd decided to have one herself. "Don't tell me you bought them?" he teased her, only half serious. After all her talk about waiting until the second trimester to bond with her baby, surely she couldn't be thinking about shopping for it already?

"Maybe," she agreed looking coy, but the sparkle in her eyes told a different story. She was happy. "I might have bought a few other things too."

* * *

"Clark, get your gear," he ordered the intern when they joined the others on the platform a short time later. "You're coming to the crime scene with me."

"What about me?" Brennan asked, trotting after him. "I always go to the crime scene with you."

"You're off field duty," he told her.

"Says who?"

"Says me."

Her expression darkened with anger. "You're benching me?"

"Yes." The ultrasound had changed everything; while his protective instincts were nothing new, seeing the tiny speck of a human being growing inside of her had reminded him that she wasn't the only one he had to protect now. He wasn't going to let her do anything that could endanger her pregnancy.

Even if she hated him for it.

She might not be ready to admit it yet, but she already loved that baby. And so did he.

She folded her arms, eyeing him with suspicion. "Do you even have the authority to do that?"

"Yes, Bones, I do," he insisted, frustrated that she had to turn everything into a battle of the wills. God help them both if their kid turned out to have even half of her stubbornness. "I'm your partner, and I'm saying you're staying here, where it's safe."

"It's safe at the crime scene," she argued.

"No, it isn't, okay, Bones? I'm just following protocol." In truth, he had no idea what the protocol was because he'd never had a pregnant partner before, but he wasn't about to give her an inch. "The FBI has strict regulations about pregnant agents working out in the field." He didn't realise how loudly he'd said it until everyone on the platform stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at them.

Cam was the only one who didn't react to his outburst. "Did he just say what I think he did?" he heard Hodgins ask Angela.

The artist's attention, however, was focused on her best friend. "You're pregnant?"

"Hallelujah!" the usually withdrawn intern piped up from behind them. "I knew you two would figure it out eventually. Although a baby already…" He slapped Booth on the back_. _"Nice work."

Booth ignored him.

"And you say I have a big mouth," Brennan hissed, shooting him the dirtiest look he'd ever seen her give.

How could she blame him when it was all her fault for getting him so worked up? "If you had just done what I told you…" he retorted through gritted teeth. Was it too much to ask for her to just stay put?

"When did this happen?" Angela asked, still trying to wrap her head around this revelation. "_How_ did this happen?" She snuck a not-so-subtle glance at Booth as if expecting to find her answer there.

"It's not what you think, Angela," Brennan assured her, catching this look."Booth and I never engaged in sexual intercourse."

For some reason, this seemed to amuse her friend. "Trust me, that's not what I thought," she agreed with a laugh.

On hearing this, Clark dropped his head into his hands."Why oh why couldn't I have got in at the Smithsonian?" he muttered.

Angela grabbed Brennan's arm. "Sweetie, you're coming with me. And you." She levelled Booth with a stern glare. "Don't think there won't be a conversation about this later," she warned him as she dragged Brennan off in the direction of her office.

When they were of earshot, Hodgins turned to him. "I know that look. You're in trouble now, man," he told him with a smirk_._

"Very smooth," Cam agreed, trying not to laugh. "Hodgins is right. You better watch yourself, Seeley. You should know better than to piss off a pregnant woman."

Great. He sighed. _Women_.

Clark still hadn't moved. "Don't just stand there," he barked at him, determined to get out of there before one or both of them caught up with him. "Let's go."

* * *

Angela caught up with him anyway, cornering him back at his own office later that afternoon. "Just so we're clear, what are your intentions with my friend?" she asked, dropping her purse on the floor and settling into the visitor's chair with her legs and arms crossed.

"_My_ intentions?" he roared, throwing his pen onto his desk. Like he was some deadbeat dad who wasn't prepared to man up and take care of his kid. "Shouldn't you be having this conversation with her? She's the one who's using me for my…" He lowered his voice to a whisper in case any of the other agents were listening"…sperm."

To his surprise, Angela actually chuckled. "Oh, honey, you really think that's what this is? If all she wanted was sperm, she could've got that from Fisher. No, this is about _you_. Or should I say, this is about you and her and this whole dance you've been doing since you met."

Trust Angela to find a way to make this about him and Brennan and this whole epic romance she'd invented for them. "You're wrong," he told her. "If this was about me, then why did she try to make me sign a contract saying that it was her kid?" So she let him come to the appointment with her. So what?Aside from that one gesture, which he was fairly certain was motivated by pity, she'd done everything in her power to prove to him that she didn't need or want his help with the baby.

He expected this to put an end to the conversation but Angela was just getting warmed up. "Have you met her? Whenever Brennan is scared that someone's getting too close, she builds these walls around her to protect herself. And you, my friend, have gotten closer than any man she's ever been involved with and she's not even having sex with you yet." Her use of the word wasn't lost on him, as if were inevitable. _Everything happens eventually_, he remembered telling her once. "Do you have any idea how terrifying that must be for a woman who's spent her entire life trying not to get attached to people?"

But he wasn't people. He was Booth. "She knows that I would never hurt her," he insisted. If he had her, he would spend every moment of every day worshiping her like she deserved. He would make sure that she never felt alone or abandoned again.

"She knows that her_ partner_ would never hurt her," Angela agreed, "but if she lets you in – I mean _really_ lets you in – and then for some reason it didn't work out? It wouldn't just break her heart, Booth, it would destroy her. Her whole world revolves around you, I hope you realise that."

It shocked him to hear his partner's feelings described like that. Sure, they were close, but him, the centre of her universe? Then again, it wasn't like she had much of a life outside of work. For as long as he'd known her it was just him and her and the rest of the Squint Squad."What're you saying?"

"I'm saying that she loves you, you moron. So much that she chose you to be the father of her child, even if it meant opening up a part of herself to you that she's never shared with anyone else."

"She said that?" he pressed, finding it difficult to imagine her saying those words. 'Love' just wasn't in her vocabulary. Not when it came to relationships.

"She didn't have to."

So she hadn't said it, which meant that Angela's whole argument was based on speculation. And if there was one thing that he'd learned from his partner, it was that you needed evidence to prove a theory.

More than anything, he wanted to believe that everything she just told him was true, that the woman he loved loved him back, but how could he when she used every ounce of strength she had fighting him? "Look, she may have used my stuff, but I'm not the father. She's made that pretty clear." He would never forget the look of horror on her face when he accidentally called the baby 'theirs'. The only reason she hadn't reacted like that this morning was because he was being glib.

"Not on paper," Angela agreed, "but we both know how this is gonna go down. She's gonna keep calling you, and you're gonna keep showing up, because you love her too, even if you're too stubborn to admit it to yourself. Or her."

He decided that there was no point in denying it. They'd both been denying it for too long. "You think I should tell her?"

"No, I don't," she admitted. "Not yet, anyway. If you ambush her with this, well, we both know what she's like. She'll use it as an excuse to push you away. Knowing her, she'll pack up the kid and move him to Australia or something and you'll never see either of them again."

Somehow she'd managed to voice his worst fear. He was so close to having everything that he'd ever wanted and yet once wrong move and he could lose it all. "So then what should I do?"

"Be patient with her. Let her see how committed you are. Just don't push. You and I both know that the two of you belong together, but she needs to figure that out for herself."

This wasn't exactly the advice he was hoping for. "So basically, do nothing?"He didn't know if how much longer he could handle that, playing the sexless best friend when he wanted so much more from her.

"You can be there for her, just try to avoid putting any labels on it. And whatever you do, don't propose this time," she teased him.

Only Angela could make him laugh at himself over something so sensitive. In a lot of ways, she was like the annoying little sister that he'd never had. "Oh, I wouldn't dare," he agreed and they shared a smile at the joke.

"For what it's worth, as crazy as this whole thing is, I'm glad she chose you to be her baby daddy and not Fisher," Angela told him. "And I think she is too."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7.

He couldn't leave things like that, knowing that his partner was mad at him, so instead of going straight home after work, he drove across town to her apartment.

As he raised his hand to knock, he was slightly afraid that she would see him through the peephole and refuse to let him in, but she answered it a few minutes later, wearing a t-shirt and a pair of loose fitting sweat pants.

"I stopped by Wong Fu's and picked up some of those steamed dumplings you like," he told her, holding the bag out as a peace offering.

"How did you know that's what I was craving?" she asked as she took it from him, stepping back to let him in.

He knew because she'd mentioned them several times in the last few days, usually when they were at the diner. It was so long since they'd been there.

She led the way into the kitchen, depositing the bag on the bench. "Would you like a drink? Obviously I don't have any alcohol but I can offer you—" She opened the door to the fridge, scanning the shelves "—almost anything else. Except coffee. I find that the smell makes me nauseous."

"I'm fine, Bones," he assured her. He felt like he needed to come clean about the real reason for his visit before he could enjoy being with her. "Listen, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for embarrassing you like that."

Her smile dimmed at the mention of what happened in the lab. "It's okay. They all had to find out sometime," she said quietly, closing the door.

Not like this. This was her first child. Who knew when or even if she would ever have another one? "Yeah, but they're your friends. You deserved the chance to tell them." He hated that he had been the one to take that away from her.

"It saves me having to make an announcement. I hadn't really thought about how I was going to do it." Her bright smile returned as she reached between them for his wrist. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

Still feeling guilty, he allowed her to lead him through her apartment, to the guest bedroom next to hers.

"Ready?" she asked, grinning at him as she opened the door. "Ta da."

"So this is gonna be the baby's room?" he asked, stepping cautiously inside. It was definitely a work in progress. Somehow she'd managed to pull the queen-sized bed apart on her own to make room for the crib that she was still yet to buy, propping the frame against the wall with the mattress. The only other furniture was a dresser and an old reading chair that he recognised from the couple of times he'd stayed over.

At the foot of the dresser was a pile of shopping bags from one of the baby stores downtown that she obviously hadn't gotten around to unpacking. He wondered when she'd had time to go there when he was with her most evenings and weekends. "You weren't kidding when you said you bought a few things," he said, struggling to set aside his disappointment at the fact that she hadn't thought to invite him. It probably hadn't occurred to her that he would be interested in something as stereotypically female as shopping because he was a hunter and not a gatherer or whatever. That or she didn't want him to start a fight with her at the checkout. It was so hard to tell with her.

"Babies need a lot of stuff. I wanted to start getting everything ready now while I can still move around freely. I anticipate that I will be very big by the time I give birth."

Why couldn't she just admit that she was excited? Sometimes it felt like she really believed that she wasn't entitled to have human emotions. "I could help you with that," he offered. That way she could take her time, instead of trying to do everything now by herself while she still could. "You shouldn't be climbing up on stepladders anyway. What if you fall off?" If he could wrap her up in cotton wool for this entire pregnancy then he would. It wasn't like he didn't already have enough to worry about with all the other things that could go wrong.

His words were met with a dramatic eye roll. "I'm pregnant, Booth, not incapacitated," she protested in what was threatening to become a continuation of the heated discussion that led to him blurting out her news in the lab.

"Don't you think you should at least wait until you find out what it is?" he asked her, trying to diffuse it before it escalated. That seemed like the logical, Bones-ish thing to do. By then she would be halfway through her second trimester. It worried him that she was already so invested in her pregnancy when, God forbid, anything could happen. "Otherwise how will you know what colour to paint it?"

"Green," she answered without hesitation. She'd obviously given the colour scheme a great deal of thought.

Maybe he hadn't given her enough credit in the planning department. He should have known that she would approach her pregnancy with the same meticulous attention detail as one of her skeletons. "Green? What's wrong with pink or blue? Or y'know, just plain old white?"

"Green is very soothing," she explained. "It's also gender-neutral."

She had a point there, but still… "I don't know. It seems more like a boy's colour."

"I like green," she argued.

"Yeah, but you're not a real girl," he teased her. At least she wasn't like any that he'd ever met. Part of him loved the idea of having a daughter with her strength and independence, and the other part dreaded the thought. He wasn't sure the world could handle another Temperance Brennan. Or if he could, for that matter.

"I have a uterus," she pointed out, looking smug, like she'd just produced the winning hand.

As if he could forget that right now. At the mention of her uterus, his eyes were drawn downward to where it was just beginning to expand, revealing the first hint of her pregnancy. As conflicted as he was about the whole thing, he couldn't deny that he was enjoying watching the changes taking place. He wasn't sure why it was such a fetish for him; if he were Sweets, he'd probably say that it was because for almost as long as he'd known her, he'd fantasised about exactly this: her, having his child. Their child. Of course those fantasies usually included sex.

He clapped his hands together, trying to keep his thoughts from straying into dangerous territory. "So let's see this green paint."

He was relieved that she didn't seem to have picked up on the fact that he was checking her out, opening the doors of the closet to reveal a row of unopened paint cans lined up neatly on one of the shelves.

He'd been picturing a horrible shade of puke green, but this was more of a soft, pastel colour. She was right. It was soothing. "That's actually not bad," he admitted. "A little weird for a girl, but we can add some pink later."

She cocked a challenging eyebrow at him. "We?"

"You don't think I'm gonna let you inhale those paint fumes, do you?" he agreed. She could watch from a safe distance while he painted it green or orange with purple polka dots or whatever colour her heart desired, but he wasn't going to let her so much as pick up a brush unless she could convince him that it wouldn't pose a threat to the baby.

He could see that as usual, she wasn't impressed by his alpha male behaviour. Too bad. That was the price she would have to pay for deciding to have his kid. "Are you going to be like this the whole time I'm pregnant?" she complained. "You're very bossy."

He was surprised that she even had to ask after knowing him for as long as she had. "Yes, Bones," he assured her, placing a hand on each of her shoulders to steer her gently out of the nursery. They could tackle that project (and that argument) another day, but right now, their food was getting cold. "I am."

* * *

"So what did Angela have to say?" he asked when they were settled on her couch with their plates in their laps. He'd been trying to find a way to bring it up ever since he arrived; it was now or never.

She shrugged, her eyes never leaving her food. "She was just being Angela." He waited for her to elaborate but she didn't. Typical. Getting her to have an honest conversation with him was like trying to force blood out of a stone.

If she wasn't going to tell him, then maybe he could get it out of her another way. "Y'know, she came by my office," he announced casually to test her reaction.

She looked up at him in alarm. "When?"

"Today, after you guys talked."

He watched her closely for signs of emotion. "She shouldn't have done that," she said, her eyes flashing with anger.

He felt bad for betraying the artist's confidence but he had to know if what she'd said about her loving him was true. "She's worried about you," he explained carefully. "She thinks you might've rushed into this whole baby thing."

"There's more than one kind of family. You said it yourself." He should have known that those words would come back to haunt him one day. "Why does everyone think you have to be in love to have a child? You have a child with Rebecca and you're not in love with her anymore."

He wished she would stop comparing their situation to the one that he was in with Rebecca. It wasn't even close to being the same. For one thing, they hadn't consciously made the decision to bring a child into the world together. "I know, and I regret that," he agreed.

That finally got him her full attention. "You regret having Parker?" she asked, sounding surprised. "But you told me it was all worth it."

He realised that she was giving him the opening that he'd been waiting for. "No. I love Parker," he assured her, choosing his next words carefully, "but I regret that we let our issues get in the way of him having a normal family. I wish we'd tried harder, for him."

"Forty per cent of all marriages end in divorce, Booth. There's no such thing as a normal family."

And there it was. She'd understood the implication behind his words and she was shutting down, using facts to reject it before he could go any further. "Y'know, you say that, Bones, but you got to grow up with a mom and a dad and a big brother who loved you. Don't you want your baby to know what that's like?" He could give her all of that and more.

"My parents were criminals. There was nothing normal about my family."

"And my dad was a drunk who knocked me and my brother around. That doesn't mean you can't still have some good memories of them." He might not have been the world's greatest father, but he was still his dad, just like Max was hers.

In hindsight, maybe it wasn't the best idea to bring up their parents, but then wasn't that exactly what made them so perfect for each other? Between them, they had a decent shot at raising a healthy, well-adjusted kid. "I just don't think you should be so quick to rule out the possibility, that's all. Just because you had a crappy childhood, doesn't mean your baby has to too."

When he glanced down at her hands, gripping her water glass, he noticed that they were trembling. "I'm trying to protect my child," she insisted.

It didn't take a genius like her to recognise that she wasn't being entirely truthful. What she was really protecting was herself. "But you can't. Pain and loss are a part of life. They're the risks we take for even just the chance of happiness. Eventually your baby's gonna find that out, the same way you did. The same way we all do. Don't you think it would be easier if it had a loving family around it when it did?"

When she raised her eyes to his again they were brimmed with tears. "What if I can't take those risks?" She pressed the flat of her palm to her stomach. "What if this is it for me?"

Why couldn't she see that even that in itself was a risk? She'd already begun to accept his views on things like children; why was it so hard for her to accept him too? "Can't or won't, Bones? Because there's a huge difference." One meant that she was willing to try, and the other… He knew that she'd been hurt in the past, but that was all the more reason for her not to give up now when she was so close to finding actual happiness. He could make her happy. He'd never believed anything so strongly in his life.

"What if I'm too damaged?" she asked in that vulnerable tone that never failed to break his heart.

He wanted to keep pushing until he got through to her, but he knew that Angela was right – it was bound to blow up in his face – so he decided to take her advice and just be there for her instead. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him, and she moulded herself into his side, laying her head on his chest. "No one's too damaged to be loved, Bones," he assured her. "Not even you."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8.

A shadow fell over Booth's desk and he glanced up to see his partner stride into his office looking gorgeous as always in a purple wrap dress that showed off her tiny bump. Even though it hadn't happened the way that he wanted it to, and he still wasn't sure where he fit in, whenever he looked at her now, he couldn't help feeling proud that that was his kid in there, making her even more beautiful that she already was.

"Hey. It's my two favourite people," he greeted her with a smile.

She looked around as if expecting to see that someone else had followed her in, before she caught on. "How can a twelve week old foetus be one of your favourite people?" she asked dubiously, clearly amused by the absurdity of the concept. "It's not even legally a person yet."

It could when the foetus in question was his, he wanted to tell her, but he settled for the explanation least likely to send her sprinting for the door. "Simple, Bones – you are my favourite person and it's a part of you, so how can it not be one of my favourite people?" That much was true. Even if she hadn't chosen him as her donor, he was sure that he would have grown to love the baby anyway just because it was hers.

"That is very logical," she agreed, too charmed by his answer to bother nitpicking.

"You seem surprised," he teased her.

"You always manage to surprise me," she told him, her brilliant blue eyes boring into his in a way that made him wonder if she was consciously trying to flirt with him.

Regardless of whether or not Angela was right, and she was as hopelessly in love with him as he was with her, she'd made it pretty clear that she wasn't prepared to follow through on these feelings any time soon. He broke eye contact with her, diverting his attention to the folder in her hands, which was obviously the reason that she'd made the trip. "So what've you got for me?"

* * *

"This is the Jeffersonian," she announced when he pulled his SUV into the loading bay in front of the familiar structure.

"Exactly," he agreed.

"But I thought we were going to arrest the suspect?" she asked, clearly not getting it.

What part of 'off field duty' did she find so hard to understand? "_I'm_ going to arrest the suspect," he told her. "You're gonna go inside and see if Hodgins has found any more evidence we can use against him."

"Can't you call Cam and ask her to do that?" she protested. "She's already inside."

He didn't have time for another argument. He had a killer to catch. "Get out of the car, Bones," he ordered with more patience than he felt.

"No. I'm not letting you go by yourself."

Ordinarily, he would have been touched by her refusal to leave him but there was just too much at stake. "Get out of the car before I carry you out," he growled, fighting to keep his temper under control.

He realised that this was a mistake when she leant back against the headrest, folding her arms, as if daring him to try, and for just a moment, he could see that same expression on a little girl's face. "No."

Two could play at that game. "Fine." He turned the key in the ignition, shutting off the engine.

Her mouth fell open and she stared at him, incredulous. "You're just going to sit here while the murderer gets away?"

"Yes," he agreed. He wasn't taking her or their child anywhere near that psychopath. Not after all the times he'd watched her get shot, stabbed or blown up.

"I'm not a child, Booth," she complained. "I'm perfectly capable of making rational decisions."

He was tired of her making decisions that affected both of them without sparing a thought for what he might want. "Don't give me any of that 'my body, my choice' crap because this really isn't about you. You're pregnant, which means that anything that happens to you, happens to your baby as well. You can't just do whatever you want when there are other people involved!"

"People? Booth, what is going on with you?"

She was a genius. How could she not have figured out what it only took the others seconds to guess? "Don't change the subject," he snapped. "We were talking about you."

She flinched at his tone, taken aback by his anger. "Why are you being so mean?"

"I'm not!"

He knew that he'd gone too far when a single tear escaped the corner of her eye, trickling down to her chin. He watched her lower lip tremble. Any minute now, she was going to start weeping.

"I'm sorry, Bones," he said, feeling like a bastard for making her cry. "I just… I would never forgive myself if something happened to you or the baby. You get that, right?"

She nodded tearfully. "Yeah. I get that."

"So would you please just do what I say for once and get out of the car?" he asked again, gentler this time. "The last thing I need right now is to be worrying about you too."

Wordlessly, she slid out of the cabin. "Just be careful, okay?" she told him as she closed the door.

He waited until she stepped back from the curb to peel off in pursuit of the suspect. As he drove away, he could still see her reflected in the rear view mirror, standing alone on the sidewalk, staring after him.

* * *

Hours later, he was still in the interrogation room with the victim's brother when his cell phone rang.

"What did you find?" he asked her after seeing her name on the caller ID, brushing past their earlier disagreement. There would be plenty of time to talk about that later, after they'd closed the case.

She didn't answer, and for a moment, he thought that she must have dialled his number by mistake, but then he heard her take a deep breath on the other end of the line like she was trying to compose herself. "Bones, is everything okay?"

There was another pause, and in his mind's eye, he could see her shaking her head. "I'm bleeding," she told him in a small voice.

This wasn't the kind of conversation he wanted to have in front of the suspect so he moved over into the corner, turning his back for privacy. "What happened? Did you cut yourself?" he asked, thinking of all the sharp implements that she used, only why would she bother calling him if that's all it was?

"No, Booth, something's wrong," she insisted and this time there was no mistaking her meaning.

Cold fingers of fear snaked around his insides. "Where are you now?" He glanced at his watch. It was almost ten. She should be getting ready for bed by now, if she wasn't already.

"I'm still at the Jeffersonian." Of course. God forbid she actually slow down and start taking care of herself now that she was pregnant. "I was going over the evidence again like you said and I felt this stabbing pain in my abdomen so I went into the bathroom and..." The rest of the story was lost as she choked on a sob.

"Is anyone there with you? Cam or Angela...?" He didn't like the thought of her being alone while all of this was happening.

"No," she admitted. "Cam went home an hour ago." Like she should have.

She could have called an ambulance but she'd called him instead. It was up to him to take care of this. "Stay right there, okay? I'm coming to get you and then we'll go to the hospital, all right?"

"Okay," she agreed. "Hurry, Booth."

"Who was that? Your wife?" the suspect asked with a smirk when he turned back around, shoving his cell into the inside pocket of his coat.

If he wasn't so concerned about his partner, he would have put him through the wall for being a smart ass. "Shut up," he retorted, yanking open the door.

* * *

Half an hour later, he was standing by her side in an exam room, gripping her hand while they waited to see a doctor. He'd left one of the younger agents in charge of finishing the interrogation, breaking the speed limit and several traffic laws in his haste to get to her.

He expected to feel relieved that this might all be over soon since it wasn't like he'd really wanted her to have the baby in the first place, but now that it might actually be taken from them, he was just as terrified as if he'd found out that was Parker who was in danger.

"Just try to relax. It's gonna be okay," he told her, not sure who he was trying to convince: her or himself.

When he arrived at the lab and found her sitting calmly on the couch in her office, she told him that the pain had stopped, which he thought must be a good thing. Wouldn't she be doubled over in agony if she was losing the baby? At least that was how it always was on TV.

"I knew this would happen," she murmured in a defeated tone, numb now that the shock of the incident had passed. "I'm not meant to be a mother. I'm meant to be alone."

He thought back to how excited she was to show him the nursery. In all the years that he'd known her, he'd never seen her so hopeful for the future. If there was a God in Heaven, he prayed silently that he would do everything in his power to keep the baby tucked away safely inside her womb where it belonged, because if she lost it now, he knew that it was only a matter of time before he lost her too. Maybe not right away, but someday soon she would pull away from him again, withdrawing back inside herself where nothing could touch her, and that would be it. No reprieves, so second chances. He could bear almost anything, but not that.

He laid his other hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Hey, why don't we wait and see what the doctor says first before we start jumping to conclusions? The baby could be fine." It had to be.

"This is all my fault," she continued, refusing to be comforted. "I should have listened to you. It was a stupid idea."

He wasn't sure if she was talking about having a baby or her insistence that he let her go with him to take down the suspect, but either way, he didn't want to be right. "It doesn't matter now," he told her. All that mattered was making sure that their baby was okay.

When the doctor arrived – a slightly older woman than the one who'd been handling her pregnancy so far – she examined his partner and drew a sample of her blood. He couldn't leave her now when she needed him so this time he stayed where he was throughout the whole process, never letting go of her hand.

He almost didn't want her to do an ultrasound, in case it confirmed what they were both afraid of, but sure enough, the baby was still there, right where they'd left it, only now it was developed enough that he could actually see its profile.

"Heart rate is normal, no sign of deformity… Everything looks good," the doctor assured them with a smile as she turned off the machine.

He expelled a breath that he hadn't even realised he was holding. "You hear that, Bones?" he asked, pressing an impulsive kiss to the hair on the crown of her head which she barely seemed to notice. "Nothing to worry about."

"So then why was I bleeding?" she argued.

"We won't know for sure until we get the results of your blood test, but it looks like you had what we call a threatened miscarriage," the doctor explained. "It happens in about a third of all pregnancies. Most women go on to have healthy full term babies. It just means that you might have to make a few changes. Cut back on work, make sure you get plenty of rest, refrain from sexual activity for a couple of weeks."

Like that was going to be a problem, he thought. He honestly couldn't remember the last time that he'd had sex and he had a feeling that she couldn't either.

Maybe it was wrong after the ordeal they'd just been through, but he couldn't help feeling a little triumphant that the doctor was backing him up on what he'd been telling her all along. "No more late nights at the lab for you, Bones. From now on you're working nine to five." Who cared if she was the world's leading expert on forensic anthropology? She was a mom now. It was time she started putting that first. "It'll be good practice for when the baby comes along."

He could see that she was annoyed at him for trying to impose even more restrictions on her but she knew better than to argue with doctor's orders, especially when her child's life might be at stake.

"We'll keep you in for a few days to make sure your baby is safe, but since your cervix isn't dilated, I don't see any cause for concern at this point," the doctor finished as she prepared to exit the room. "Congratulations to you both."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9.

"I don't see why I have to stay here if everything's fine," Brennan complained, sinking back against the pillow with a heavy sigh.

After the doctor finished examining her, she'd arranged for her to be moved to a private room so that she could rest while they waited for her test results, but so far all she'd done since the nurses left them alone was bitch and moan about how she didn't need to be there.

"You have to say here, Bones, because your baby almost died," he reminded her. She could whine all she liked but it wouldn't change the fact that she wasn't leaving that bed until someone with a medical degree assured him that nothing like this would ever happen again.

"But what about the suspect? Don't you have to go finish the interrogation?"

He couldn't tell if she was genuinely concerned about the outcome of the case or just trying to get rid of him but either way it didn't matter because he wasn't going anywhere tonight. "Y'know, you shouldn't even be worrying about that right now. Your only job now is to get better so that I can take both of you home."

She sighed again, tilting her head towards him to meet his eyes with a pathetic look. "How am I supposed to get better when I'm even not sick?"

He mentally weighed up the pros and cons of asking one of the nurses if there was something that they could put in her IV that wouldn't hurt the baby so that they could both get some much needed sleep but he felt like that would be crossing some kind of line. Besides, she was so smart that she'd probably figure it out and he'd never hear the end of it. "It really is true what they say about doctors making the worst patients."

She rolled her eyes. "That's medical doctors, Booth. Not doctors of philosophy."

It was his turn to sigh. "Whatever. You're still a terrible patient," he teased her.

Instead of carrying on their banter, she squeezed her eyes shut, grappling with some emotion that he couldn't identify, and he softened when it occurred to him that this wasn't exactly a stroll in the park for her either. She was so used to being in control of everything all the time and tonight she couldn't even control what was happening inside of her own body. She could try, but ultimately it was in God's hands. "Is there anything I can get you?" he asked, wishing that there was something he could do to make this easier for her. "Water? Blankets? An extra pillow?"

"I'm a little hungry," she admitted.

"How long has it been since you ate?"

"I don't remember," she confessed, opening her eyes. "I guess I lost track of time."

"You're kidding me." It wouldn't be the first time that she'd gotten so engrossed in her work that she ended up skipping lunch or dinner, or breakfast, for that matter, but he couldn't believe that she would allow herself to go that long without eating while she was pregnant. "Three square meals a day, Bones." And she wondered why he didn't want to let her out of his sight.

He was ready to deliver another lecture about the importance of good nutrition, but instead of arguing this time, all she said was, "I know. I'm sorry. Please don't yell at me again," with a tiny smile that told him that she found his recent behaviour more amusing than anything.

It was the middle of the night. The cafeteria would be closed by now and they wouldn't be bringing the next meal cart around for hours. "I'll tell you what," he said, pushing himself up from his chair. "I think I saw a vending machine down the hall. Why don't you let me get you a sandwich?" It was that or crap from whatever the nearest fast food joint was.

"I suppose I'm not allowed to get it myself?" she complained without moving, but she was still smiling.

"That's right," he agreed, pleased to see that she was finally catching on. "I'll be right back."

He slipped out of the room and wandered down the dark hall in search of the vending machine. It was further away than he'd thought; after deliberating over the choices for a few moments, he settled one with tofu as well as salad in case she was still anaemic. The blood loss probably hadn't helped. If it was up to him, she'd start eating meat again for the remainder of her pregnancy but he couldn't bully her into changing her diet.

He was on his way back when he heard a man's voice hiss. "Booth!" He froze, the fingers of his free hand grazing the butt of his gun inside his coat, turning slowly to see a figure emerge from the shadows. "Tell me, how bad is it? Car accident? Gunshot wound?"

"Max? What're you doing here?" he asked, lowering his hand. As far as he knew, his partner hadn't seen or heard from her father in months, since he got bored of working at the Jeffersonian and moved on. They weren't even sure that he was still in D.C.

"Angela said Tempe was in the hospital," he explained.

"Yeah, but she's fine now." He raised the hand holding the sandwich. "I was just getting her something to eat."

"Well, what happened?" Max pressed when he didn't provide any more information than that.

"Angela didn't tell you?"

"If she had, would I be asking?"

He couldn't lie to her father about what was wrong with her. "Bones is pregnant," he admitted, hoping that she wouldn't be too upset with him. It wasn't like he was doing it on purpose. "She thought she was having a miscarriage so I brought her here. They're keeping her in overnight while they run some tests but it looks like they're both gonna be fine."

"Tempe's having a baby?" Max repeated as if he wasn't sure that he'd heard him correctly. Booth couldn't blame him. Six months ago he wouldn't have believed it either. "Who's the father?"

He thought about telling him that he didn't know but he was going to find out eventually. "I am," he admitted.

"You knocked up my little girl?"

Could this conversation get any more awkward? "In a manner of speaking."

They weren't married, nor were they even really together; he expected Max to make him earn back his trust and respect, but instead, he hugged him. "Welcome to the family, son," he cried, clapping him hard on the back.

"Hold on. Not so fast," Booth said, prying himself from his grip before he could offer to pay for the wedding. "This is strictly a business arrangement between me and Bones."

Max's smile faded and he let out an exasperated sigh. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not gonna like what you're about to tell me?"

Probably because you're not, he thought. "She wanted a baby so I gave her my… uh..." He couldn't say the word _sperm_ in front of her dad "…contribution. That's all. I never slept with her." He wasn't sure why he felt the need to clarify that when they were both adults; he just didn't want him to get the wrong idea about their relationship.

"You mean the two of you still aren't having sex?"

"No."

"So then what's in it for you?"

Why did everyone keep asking him that, like he had to have some ulterior motive for doing what he did? Wasn't that why they called it a 'selfless' act? "Well, you know, I just want her to be happy," he insisted, giving him what had become the standard answer.

Max shook his head. "That's crap and you know it. I gotta say, I'm disappointed in you, Booth. This is exactly the kind of crazy stunt I expect Tempe to pull, but you… You're a father. I'm surprised you would go along with it."

What was he supposed to do? What would he have done? "Let me get this straight. You're disappointed in me because I'm _not_ sleeping with your daughter?"

"No, I'm disappointed in you because by letting her take advantage of you, you're taking advantage of her."

How was it that he was able to turn this around and make it _his_ fault? It wasn't like any of it had been his idea."What? That doesn't even make sense."

"Yes, it does. Think about it." He gestured to the row of closed doors stretching off into the darkness and beyond. "Now which one of these is hers?"

* * *

When he returned to the room, she was lying with her eyes closed, and for a moment, he thought that she must finally be asleep, but she opened them when he she heard him come in. "Hey," she greeted him with tired a smile, forcing herself to sit up.

"Here." He tossed the plastic box containing the sandwich to her.

"You were gone a long time," she said, setting it down on her tray without opening it. "Did something happen?"

"I ran into someone who wanted to see you," he explained, stepping aside to let her father through.

"Hi, honey. How're you feeling?"

She glanced from him to Booth and back in confusion. "Dad? How did you get in here? Visiting hours are over." The only reason no one had kicked Booth out yet was because all of the nurses seemed to think that he was her doting husband and he hadn't bothered to correct them. If he was honest with himself, it was partly because he wanted to stay with her, and partly because he enjoyed playing that role, just like he had all those times they'd used it as their cover.

"When did I ever let the rules stop me from doing anything?" Max moved over to her bedside, pulling up the chair that Booth had vacated_. _ "Booth tells me you're pregnant."

"That is correct," she agreed, concentrating on picking the tape off the sandwich box with her fingernail.

"You didn't think you should let your old man in on the good news?"

"I'm only twelve weeks, Dad. I haven't told anyone except Cam and Booth," she assured him, omitting the fact that the only reason she hadn't was because he'd accidently spilled the beans to everyone else.

"You told Booth and not me?"

"Of course. He's my partner," she agreed, picking up one half of the sandwich. "I thought you would be happy. You're always saying how much you love spending time with Amy's daughters."

"Don't get me wrong, honey – I'm thrilled that you finally decided to make me a grandpa – I just wish you would've waited until you found someone you wanted to share it with." He glanced pointedly at Booth. "Unless maybe you already have?" he added in a hopeful tone.

"First Booth, then Angela, now you. Why doesn't anyone think I can do this?" she complained, biting the corner off angrily.

Clearly, her father wasn't done. "Booth, could you give us a minute?"

"Sure," he agreed, pushing off the wall where he'd been leaning. "Just make sure she finishes that. She needs to get her strength up."

Max chuckled. "You sure you're not the father?"

"Genetically speaking, Booth _is_ the father, Dad," she announced once she'd had time to swallow. "I used his sperm."

Her words made him cringe with enough embarrassment for both of them. Why did she have to keep talking about his sperm in front of everyone, including her father?

"Tempe, I think you know that's not what I meant," her father said gently.

He watched her eyes dart over to him and then away again and he knew that his presence in the room was making her uncomfortable. Whatever her father was about to say, she didn't want him to say it in front of Booth. "I'm gonna go grab some coffee. You want some, Max?"

"Thanks, but no thanks. I don't plan on staying long."

"You don't have to stay either, Booth," she insisted as he moved to leave. "Sleeping in that chair can't be good for your back."

As tempting as the thought of spending the night in his own bed was, he knew that if he left now, she would probably try to convince the nurses to let her check out early so that she could go back to the lab. "You're not getting rid of me that easily," he told her. On seeing that she still hadn't taken more than a couple of small bites of her sandwich, he added, "Now eat up."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10.

Booth wanted to give Brennan and her father a chance to catch up, so Styrofoam cup in hand, he went for a walk around the deserted halls to work some of the tension out of his back. Without making a conscious decision about where he was headed, he found himself outside the nursery, watching the tiny newborns through the plated glass. He'd been standing there in front of the observation window the first time that he'd laid eyes on his son. The nurses had let him in so that he could hold him, but that didn't make up for not being in the room when he drew his first breath. At least this time there was a chance that he might actually be invited into the delivery room. She might think that she had it all under control, but she was going to need someone then, which meant that he had a little over six months to prove to her once and for all that he could be the one to look after her. He just hoped that it would be enough.

Max was gone by the time he let himself back into the room. Brennan had curled onto her side, putting her back to the door. He closed it softly, noting with satisfaction that she appeared to have drifted off in his absence.

He was about to reclaim his chair and join her when a slight tremor ran through her body. He waited for her to roll over to face him, but when she still didn't move, he figured that she must be reacting to something in her dream, until he heard a muffled sob escape her lips. "Bones, are you okay?" Her shoulders jerked in response and he realised that she wasn't asleep at all. She was crying and doing her best to hide it from him. "Bones, talk to me."

When his words only seemed to make her cry harder, he climbed up onto the bed with her, lifting her carefully into his arms. "Hey, hey, hey." He cradled the back of her head with one hand, rubbing soothing circles between her shoulder blades with the other while he scanned their surroundings for clues as to what had set her off her.

"What's wrong?" he tried again when the tears finally began to slow. "Is the baby…? I mean, you didn't...?" He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. It was too horrible, especially if she was alone when it happened. He forced his eyes to travel down her the back of her hospital gown, to the pristine white sheets beneath them, terrified of what he would discover, but there was no evidence to suggest that she was still bleeding. She must have known what he was asking because she shook her head. "Then what?" Still holding her arms, he pulled back slightly so that he could study her face. "Was it your dad? What did he say to you that has you this upset?"

She shrugged her shoulder out of his grip and dutifully he released her. "Nothing. I'm fine," she insisted, wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm.

"You are not 'fine', Bones. People don't cry when they're 'fine'." He'd only ever seen her this distraught a handful of times and then it was usually due to one of them almost getting killed.

"I'm sorry. I'm just tired and hormonal and worried about my child and I guess it all hit me at once."

Something told him that she was lying, but she obviously wasn't going to confide in him. At least not tonight. "Then how about you lie back down and get some sleep, huh?" He peeled the blankets back for her, and she lay back down, allowing him to cover her. She looked so sad and vulnerable that, overcome with sudden tenderness, he took advantage of his position to reach over and stroke a stray lock of hair away from her tear-stained cheek. "You'll feel better in the morning."

"You're not going to leave, are you?"she asked fearfully when he stood up.

The Temperance Brennan that he knew was a lot of things, but clingy had never been one of them. It worried him, yet at the same time, it filled him with a strange warmth. He loved being needed by her. He was a man, after all. "Of course not, Bones," he agreed, settling back in his chair where he could keep an eye on her. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

* * *

"Are you gonna eat those?" Booth asked, pointing to the strips of bacon that sat untouched on Brennan's plate. He'd been so focused on making sure that she ate that he'd forgotten to grab something for himself and as a consequence, he was starving by the time he woke up the next morning.

She pushed it towards him. "No, you can have it," she agreed, taking her spoon up again.

"Thanks," he told her as she went back to eating her cereal. He picked one up and popped it in his mouth. A little crispy, but overall, not bad."You sure you don't want some? It's actually pretty good for hospital food. Here." He cut a piece off the end, waving the fork enticingly in front of her nose. "Come on. You don't want the baby to miss out, do you?"

"It can't taste anything, Booth. All it gets are nutrients."

"Don't make me turn this fork into an airplane."

"You are not doing that with my child," she complained, giving him a look that told him she thought he was insane when he pretended to fly it towards her, complete with sound effects, but she opened her mouth for him anyway.

"See, now that wasn't so bad, was it?" he teased her as she took a sip of her orange juice.

"Aww. You guys are just too adorable," came a voice from the door. Angela. He wondered how long she'd been standing there. "I'd tell you to get a room but it looks like it's a little late for that."

Brennan shot him a puzzled glance. "What is she talking about?"

He would never understand how someone who was as open about sex as she was could avoid learning any of the colloquialisms relating to it. "Well, you know, you're already pregnant..." he tried to explain, feeling the colour rise to his cheeks when he noticed Angela smirking at him.

"What does me being pregnant have to do with whether or not we're in a room?" Brennan asked, frowning at him; then, a moment later, "Oh. I get it. You were suggesting we find a private location to have sex because we look like a couple. That's very amusing, Angela."

One of these days he was going to find a way to teach her how to filter her words before she spoke.

"Pretty much." Angela set a bag down next to her tray. "I brought you some clothes and few other things I thought you might need."

"Thanks, Angela."

"So how's my little godchild doing?" she asked, sitting down on the end of Brennan's bed.

"Since I'm an atheist, I won't be appointing godparents. However, since you are my best friend, I will definitely consider you when it comes time to choose a legal guardian for my child."

The thought that she might ask someone else to step in and raise their child if she couldn't hadn't occurred to him. "Wait just a second there, Bones. If anyone's gonna be the kid's guardian, shouldn't it be me? I mean, half of his genes are mine." He was careful to avoid the word 'father', even though the implication was there.

"I just assumed because we said you wouldn't be involved…"

"Well _un_assume, okay? If anything ever happens to you, I'll take care of him. I promise."

He expected her to argue with him, but she just smiled. "I would like that."

"You know, in future, you can just say he's good," Angela chimed in, dispersing some of the tension between them.

"According to the doctors, he or she is doing very well under the circumstances," Brennan told her.

"Glad to hear it. I already have big plans for that kid."

It was right at that moment that the doctor entered the room with Brennan's chart. "We have your test results back and everything appears normal for this stage of pregnancy," she assured them. Booth caught Brennan's eye and they exchanged smiles at the news. "Provided that you don't display any more symptoms, we should be able to discharge you today. Just remember what I said about taking it easy."

"Booth, you look exhausted," Angela remarked when she was gone, taking in his dishevelled appearance. His suit was rumpled from trying to sleep in it and if the shadow on his cheeks was any indication, he really needed to shave. "Has he been here all night?" she asked Brennan, who confirmed it with a nod.

"I told him he didn't have to stay but you know how stubborn he can be."

Angela bit back a grin at the irony of hearing Brennan complain about stubbornness. He was sure that she must be the most bull-headed person either of them knew. Their baby didn't stand a chance. "Why don't you go home and take a shower? I'll keep her company until you get back."

As grateful as he was for her offer to give him a break, he still didn't know if he was comfortable leaving without her, especially after her meltdown the night before. He was going crazy trying to guess what could have brought it on but she seemed embarrassed about it this morning so he hadn't mentioned it. "You sure you'll be all right?" he asked her.

"I'll be fine, Booth," she assured him. "But you, you need to sleep. Angela can take me home."

"I really don't mind," he insisted. He'd lasted much longer than this without a full night's sleep.

"The man spent the night in a hospital chair for you," Angela reminded her, and he was pleased that she seemed to be backing him up. "Let him have this one, sweetie."

* * *

"Here we are. Home, sweet home," Booth announced as he pulled into the visitor's space next to Brennan's a few hours later.

Before he could move around to help her, she slid out of the passenger's side, opening the back door to retrieve the bag Angela had packed for her.

"You carry the baby, I'll carry the bags, deal?" he told her, taking it from her gently before she could argue with him.

"That doesn't seem like a fair deal when the baby only weighs half an ounce," she pointed out.

"Trust me, it's fair," he insisted, ignoring her sceptical look as he pulled out a second bag, slinging one over each shoulder.

"Whose is that?" she asked. "I only had one."

"Mine," he confessed, starting into the building.

"Why do you need a bag?"

"Because, Bones, I'm moving in with you," he explained impatiently. Just let her try to stop him.

"I don't need a babysitter, Booth," she complained, trailing after him. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I've been doing it since I was fifteen."

He wished that she would just let someone else take care of her for once in her life. "Think of me as a guest then."

"You realise I don't have a guest room anymore?"

He thought of the mess in the baby's room. Maybe he could do something about that while he was here. "So I'll sleep on the couch."

"Booth, you can't. What about your back?"

"I'll survive."

"For how long?" Realising how confusing this was, she tried again. "What I mean is, how long do you intend on staying?"

Forever, he wanted to tell her. "Just until you get back on your feet." Or at least until he ran out of excuses and she kicked him out.

"I'm already on my feet."

It was hard to tell if she was being literal or argumentative or some combination thereof. "Look, Bones," he said, rounding on her as they waited for the elevator. "You're supposed to be resting, which means you're gonna need someone to take care of the apartment for you. I can cook, clean, go to the store… That way you can just focus on cooking the little guy."

"Growing a foetus doesn't require me to focus, Booth," she corrected him with a resigned sigh. "However, I will allow that you have a point. In light of what happened, it wouldn't hurt to have someone here, just in case. But only for a couple of days. And only as a guest. I don't want you waiting on me…"

He couldn't help the grin that crept onto his face as she continued to lay down the terms of her surrender. Even though he had doctor's orders on his side, there was a part of him that still hadn't expected to win. At least not this easily. Pregnancy was making her soft, or maybe he was finally getting through to her.

* * *

"_Tempe, what is this about?"_

"_What is what about, Dad?"_

"_This sudden need to procreate. You never wanted children before. What made you decide to go out and get yourself pregnant now after all these years?"_

"_My life is selfish. I wanted to do something that wasn't."_

"_So where exactly does Booth fit in to that?"_

"_He doesn't. Isn't that the point of using a sperm donor?"_

"_Then why involve him at all? Why not go to a sperm bank? Or better yet, adopt?"_

"_I know his medical history. I know he doesn't have any STDs. I know what I'm getting."_

"_Do you?"_

"_I don't understand what you mean."_

"_Booth isn't like me. He's not a 'love em and leave em' kind of guy. He's the kind of guy who sticks around."_

"_I know. He's made of better stuff."_

"_Then what on earth made you think you could ask him to make a baby with you and not be a part of your lives?"_

"_Booth will always be a part of this child's life, Dad. I'm going to make sure of that."_

"_I know you think that now, Tempe, because you're both single and all you have to do is pick up the phone and he comes running, but what if he meets someone? Someone who does want to raise a family with him? Do you honestly believe that she'll be okay with you calling him at all hours of the day and night to come over and change diapers? You know more about relationships than that. If you're not careful, you're gonna be left alone, holding the baby. Is that really what you want?"_

"_You're wrong. Booth isn't like you. He would never abandon his child."_

"_Ah, but then he's just the sperm donor."_


	11. Chapter 11

_Thanks for the reviews. I would have had this up earlier but I've been having some Internet issues. ;)_

* * *

Chapter 11.

Apparently Brennan's idea of resting involved sitting at the dining room table with her laptop and a mountain of notes, reworking a draft of her latest Kathy novel.

Booth, on the other hand, was bored. He'd taken a nap earlier but that had only killed about an hour. "I can't believe you still don't own a TV," he complained from where he lay sprawled on his back on her couch, flicking through the current issue of the_ American Journal of Physical Anthropology._ So far the only thing he'd understood was the title. Why couldn't she subscribe to a normal magazine, like _US Weekly_?

"That's because I have better things to do with my time than stare at the idiot box all day," she told him without taking her eyes from the screen.

"What about when you're sick?"

"I never get sick."

"Everybody gets sick, Bones," he insisted, tossing a throw pillow in the air like a football before catching it again. "Surely they teach you that in anthropology school."

"You mean college?" she corrected him. "I don't. I haven't taken a sick day since I was in the ninth grade. Well, until today," she amended sheepishly.

Trust her to need something as serious as almost losing her baby to convince her to adjust her priorities. "_Ninth grade_?" That was almost twenty years ago. "You're pulling my leg." Surely it was impossible for someone to stay healthy for that long? Then again in the time that he'd known her, she'd been shot, stabbed, blown up and even buried alive and still gone into the lab the next day as if nothing had happened. He decided that it probably had more to do with her inability to accept her limitations than her immune system.

"Nope," she assured him with a smug grin. "During my time at the Jeffersonian, I have accumulated over one hundred sick days. Cam suggested that I might like to take them before I officially begin my maternity leave. That way I can spend more time with my child during the formative stages of its development."

At this rate, he was definitely going to have to find a new partner. She had enough money to support herself and her child for years: what if she never wanted to come back to work? Stranger things had happened. "But you're gonna get one for the kid, right?" he asked, pushing this thought out of his mind. He'd cross that bridge when they came to it. "Kids like TV."

"I'm not going to use television as a babysitter, Booth."

"No. You are not gonna be one of those moms," he told her, sitting up. He wasn't going to let her raise a kid with her handicaps, even if it was brilliant like her.

"What moms?" she asked, glancing over at him with a wary expression.

"You know, the ones who don't let their kids watch TV or eat sugar or play outside in the dirt or do anything else fun."

"Rules are important. Children need boundaries."

"I agree, but there's nothing wrong with letting them watch cartoons or eat ice cream once in awhile. You were a kid once. Wasn't there ever a show that you never missed?"

"My father and I used to watch natural history documentaries together," she admitted, smiling at the memory. "His favourite was David Attenborough."

Just when he thought Max couldn't surprise him anymore. "I was thinking more along the lines of, like, _Scooby-Doo_."

This caused her to frown. "That program was infantile, Booth. Anyone with even basic reasoning skills could work out who the perpetrator was."

That was the best part. At least it had been for him. "Ah ha! So you _did_ watch cartoons." How else would she know that?

"Russ liked them," she protested. "He was always hogging the remote control when my parents weren't home."

"Sure," he teased her with a knowing grin. The fact the she remembered anything about the show meant that she must have been paying attention.

"He did," she insisted, her voice rising in that adorably defensive way.

She went back to typing, and he resorted to pacing the living room in silence, examining the artefacts that lined the shelves, until, she asked, "You really think my child would benefit from having a TV?"

He knew that he shouldn't keep distracting her when she was on a deadline, but she was due for a break anyway. Surely her publisher would understand when she finally got around to notifying them of her pregnancy. "Absolutely. Kids, they bond over stuff they all watch on TV. It's a normal part of social development. Like right now, all of Parker's friends are into _SpongeBob_."

This statement was met with one of her patented blank stares. "I don't know what that means."

Of course she didn't. When was the last time she'd watched TV? "_SpongeBob SquarePants. _It's a cartoon, about a sea sponge called Sponge Bob who wears square pants. Kids love it."

"It doesn't sound very educational. Not only are sea sponges amorphous, but there's no scientific evidence to suggest that they're capable of sentient thought."

It was like the purple elephant all over again. "You know, Bones, if it was logical, it wouldn't be funny."

"That's true," she agreed. She looked thoughtful for a moment. "If I got a TV, maybe you and Parker could come over and watch it sometime. If I'm going to be a mother, I should probably familiarise myself with the things children are interested in."

Typical Bones. She was so sure that she could find out everything she needed to know through scientific observation and examination. Even so, it warmed his heart to see her so earnest about learning how to relate to their child. She might not see it herself, but she was going to be a great mom. "Parker would love that. He already thinks you're pretty cool."

She puffed up at the compliment. "He said that?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "He says it all the time."

She continued to smile to herself as she finished the paragraph she was working on. "Would you like to come with me to buy one? Last time we had this conversation, you told me I should get a one hundred inch flat screen."

He never thought that she would actually consider buying one. "One hundred and three inch, Bones," he corrected her. "And that was a year ago. You can probably get an even bigger one now."

He could see that she was sceptical. "Does the size of a screen really make a difference? I imagine all television programs look the same no matter what you watch them on."

It did when you tried to watch the Super Bowl on a thirty two inch flat screen that was more than half a decade old. "Yes, Bones. Yes, it does."

* * *

Since the doctor hadn't said anything about bed rest, he decided that a quick trip to the mall wouldn't hurt her. It would be good for both of them to get out of the apartment for a while. They were already starting to drive each other crazy: him with his restlessness, and her with her constant need to turn everything into an argument. So far today, she'd already lectured him on leaving the toilet seat up, dropping his bag and its contests on the floor and not washing a plate up immediately after using it. He could definitely see her as a mom. He was just glad that he wasn't her kid.

"Looks like they're having a sale," he said when she paused in front of a baby boutique. "You wanna go inside and check it out?"

She hesitated for a moment, eyeing the window display with a wistful expression, before turning away. "No. I don't want to jinx it."

"You don't believe in jinxes," he reminded her gently, sensing that this was about more than superstition.

"Well, maybe I should," she insisted. "I knew better than to start buying things before I was even in my second trimester. It was stupid."

What was stupid? Hoping for something? Believing that it would work out for the best? "It's your first kid, Bones," he told her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder as they began walking again. "You're allowed to get a little carried away."

"I didn't think being pregnant would be this scary," she confessed. "I'm worried all the time, Booth. The other day I thought about misusing lab equipment just so I could hear the heartbeat. Everyone says I should enjoy this part, but I can't wait until it's born so I can see that everything's in the right place."

He bit back smile at her words. "There's nothing wrong with you, Bones. It's called being a parent," he told her. "I heard someone say once that when you have a kid, for the rest of your life it's like there's this piece of your heart out there walking around."

For once, she didn't try to argue about the logic of this. "Is that how you feel about Parker?" she asked.

"There's not a single minute of the day that I don't worry about him," he agreed. "I worry that he'll get sick, that he'll get hit by a car crossing the street, that some son of a bitch will try to hurt him because of what we do. Being a parent _is_ scary, Bones, because the world is a scary place. It's even scarier when you've seen the kinds of things that we see every day."

"This is why I never wanted to have children," she reminded him. "I have nightmares about my child ending up on my autopsy table."

She'd never told him that before. No wonder she'd freaked out last night. She thought her worst fears were coming true. "But if you didn't, you'd be missing out on the greatest experience of your life. The first time that kid calls you 'Mommy'… Trust me, there is nothing better than that."

"Even sex?"

"Even sex," he agreed and she smiled.

"I can't believe I'm actually going to be somebody's mother," she mused. "I feel like I should know what I'm doing."

"Let me let you in on a little secret there, Bones," he said, giving her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "None of us do."

* * *

"Isn't this great, Bones?"

She was sitting on the couch, munching on a bag of pretzels while she watched him hook up the one hundred and fifty inch flat screen that he'd talked her into buying.

"It's very loud," she yelled over the voice of the commentator as he settled on a baseball game on ESPN.

"That's because it has a state of the art stereo system," he agreed happily, turning it up another couple of decibels to test the effect. The sound quality was amazing. He definitely wasn't going to be able to leave now. It didn't seem fair that she got custody of the baby _and_ the TV.

He plopped down into the space beside her on the couch. "You'll thank me for that when it comes time to sleep train the peanut." Even though she'd informed him that at just over twelve weeks, their child was now the length of her pinkie, he'd already gotten used to referring to it that way.

"Why would a stereo system help my baby sleep?" she asked, licking the salt from her fingers.

He lowered the volume to a more reasonable level so that he wouldn't have to shout. "Haven't you heard of controlled crying?" When she shook her head slowly, he explained, "Instead of picking the baby up every time it cries, you leave it to 'cry it out'. Eventually it falls asleep on its own."

He could see that that idea upset her. "That seems cruel," she insisted, a quiver in her voice, and he wondered if she was thinking of the time that she'd spent in the system, when she was no doubt left alone to cry out her problems. She probably thought that she would be doing the same thing to her child that her parents had to her.

"I know," he agreed gently, "but it's how they learn how to self soothe. You just have to tough it out along with them."

"I don't think I can do that, Booth. It goes against instinct."

Who would have thought that the woman who swore to him that she wasn't good with children would be such a soft touch when it came to her own? "Of course you can, Bones. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"I might need you to hold me back."

She said it so casually that he couldn't tell if she was kidding or if she actually wanted him to be there with her during all of those long, sleepless nights. "Look, Bones, I think you might've gotten the wrong idea about something I said," he told her, deciding that now was as good a time as any to broach the subject that had been weighing on him since she first announced her intention to use his sperm to get pregnant. "When I agreed that I didn't want to be involved, it was because I thought that was what you wanted."

He paused, giving her the opportunity to confirm this and put an end the conversation; when she didn't, her pale blue eyes boring into his as she waited for him to finish, he took it as a positive sign and continued, "But the truth is that I want to have a relationship with this kid, because I think he – or she – is gonna be someone really special."

"You will, Booth," she assured him. "I should have realised that that wasn't you."

She was agreeing with him. He almost didn't know how to react. He was sure that she was going to resist the idea. Maybe he even serve him with another legal document. "Really?"

She nodded. "Even though we have very different opinions concerning traditional families, you were right about one thing."

"What's that?"

"Children need male and female role models, especially boys. You're the bravest, most honourable man I know. I can't think of anyone I'd rather my son emulate."

He wasn't sure whether to be thrilled that, by her own admission, she wanted her kid to be just like him, or offended that that still hadn't been enough to convince her to let him be a father right from the beginning. "So what're you saying? You want me to help raise him?" he asked, waiting for the other shoe to drop. There had to be a 'but'. There was always a 'but' with her.

"I know you already have your hands full with Parker..." she agreed, sounding less sure of herself now.

"I have enough room in my heart for more than one kid, Bones," he assured her. When he was younger, he'd dreamt of having four or five. Two wasn't exactly much of a stretch. "So how would this work? Would we tell him that I'm his dad?"

"Biological father, and yes. When he – or _she_ – is old enough to understand about artificial insemination we'll explain the circumstances surrounding his or her conception."

His heart sank at her need to preface the word 'father'. What she was proposing sounded a lot like co-parenting. Just like Rebecca, only without the bitterness of a break up between them. And just like Rebecca, she wasn't going to stand in the way of him getting to know his kid, but she didn't want to commit to him. He was just the bio dad. "And you would let me spend time alone with him, teaching him about guy stuff, like girls and sports?"

"If you think that's important," she agreed. "And you wouldn't always have to be alone with him – or her – like you are with Parker. We could still hang out sometimes. It would just be like it is now, only with a baby."

"Not just a baby, Bones, _our_ baby," he reminded her, still in awe of the idea, and to his surprise, she cracked a tiny smile this time.

"Do you need it in writing? Because I could have my lawyer draw up another contract."

"No," he said quickly. "No more contracts, okay? We're partners. We can just work this out ourselves."

"Okay. Partner," she agreed, chuckling softly.

"You're still planning to breastfeed, right?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Aside from having numerous health benefits, studies show that breastfeeding strengthens the mother-infant relationship. Although I will probably have to express milk when I go back to work."

"So when he gets older, do you think he could come and stay with me sometimes?" he asked, wishing now that he hadn't brought up her breasts. "I'd like to take him camping with me and Parker. You'd be invited too, of course," he added as an afterthought.

"Of course," she echoed. "We'll discuss it with him once he reaches a suitable age."

"Great." The whole thing was so... civil. Polite. The complete opposite of how it had been with Rebecca. It felt weird to be negotiating parenting responsibilities like they were dividing up furniture. It wasn't what he would have chosen, but it was definitely an upgrade from 'sperm donor'. At least this way he got to be a dad. "I feel really good about this, Bones."

"Me too," she agreed.

His smile faded as a thought occurred to him. "What if it's a girl?" He didn't know anything about raising a daughter. Would she still need his help if it was a girl?

"You can still take her camping," she assured him. "Oh, and talk to her about girls if she's like Angela."

"She's not gonna be a lesbian, Bones," he insisted, struggling to keep a straight face. Sometimes it was hard not to laugh at the things she came out with, even when she was being serious like she was now. Even though she always meant well, he could only imagine how embarrassing she would be if their child did in fact turn out to be gay. He hoped for its sake that it wasn't.

"How do you know?" she argued, frowning at him. "Homosexual, bisexual and transgendered people make up at least five per cent of the overall population."

If they did have a girl, and she inherited even half of her mother's beauty, he was going to enjoy taking a leaf out of Max's book and playing the scary dad, flashing his badge and gun to drive potential boyfriends away like he had with some of the losers Brennan picked up. "I just do."

* * *

_Go on, say it: Brennan is an idiot, and so is Booth. ;)_


	12. Chapter 12

_Thanks for the reviews. Updates will probably be less frequent now that I'm back at uni but I'm still going to try to aim for one a week. ;)_

* * *

Chapter 12.

Since it was impossible to sleep in on a couch – even one as expensive as Brennan's – Booth decided to kill the time until his partner got up by making breakfast for both of them. It was unusual for her to still be in bed at a time that she would normally be at work, but then lately her energy level wasn't what it had been before she got pregnant.

Her laptop was still open on the table where she'd left it the night before. He picked it up, intending to move it out of the way so that he could finish setting, but as he did so, the screensaver disappeared and his attention was caught by a single word.

His name.

His first thought was that it must be part of the usual list of acknowledgements, but as he skimmed over the page, he was shocked to discover that she hadn't been writing about Kathy and Andy. She'd been writing about them. Booth and Brennan, or Bren, as the fictional version of him called her.

However the similarities ended there. In her story, they were happily married nightclub owners expecting their first child together. Well that part was true. Kind of. Although it definitely hadn't happened the same way that it had in the book. His cheeks warmed as he scrolled back to the beginning and his eyes passed over a particular description. Reading her sex scenes always felt uncomfortably intimate, but it was even worse when he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was thinking of him as she wrote it.

He knew then that he had to stop. It was the literary equivalent of reading her diary. He didn't even want to think about how she would react if she found out that he'd snooped through what appeared to be some kind of private fantasy of hers. He was surprised that she hadn't thought to close the file before going to bed, but then it seemed that even pregnant geniuses weren't safe from what he'd heard referred to as 'baby brain'.

He returned her laptop to the table and was about to go check on breakfast when her heard her voice.

"Booth!"

He froze, watching the as words were replaced by a slideshow of pictures from some of the exotic digs that his partner had worked on before glancing up to see her trudge in, still in the loose t-shirt and pyjama pants that she'd worn to bed. "There you are," he teased her, hoping that she wouldn't notice how flustered he was. "I was starting to think I should go in and check that you were still breathing."

To his relief, she wasn't looking at him. She was looking at the mess that he'd made of her kitchen. "I told you you didn't have to cook for me."

"I'm not," he told her innocently. "I made them for myself."

She tilted her head to the side, giving him that look that told him that she wasn't buying it. "Then why do you need two plates?"

"Fine," he agreed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "One is for me, and one is for the peanut – who I happen to think would enjoy some pancakes. And don't tell me he doesn't have taste buds, because that's no excuse. He still needs to eat."

He loved watching her face soften every time he brought up their baby. "Nothing you just said makes sense and yet I find it impossible to be mad at you," she told him, easing herself into the chair closest to him.

Deciding that this was her way of agreeing that he'd won this battle – if you could even call it that – he flipped a stack of pancakes onto one of the plates and placed it in front of her. "There you go, Bones. Dig in."

"If you insist on feeding me like this for my entire pregnancy I'm going to get fat," she complained as she reached for the syrup.

"You're gonna get fat anyway," he teased her, returning to his place by the frying pan. "Why not have a little fun with it?"

"Booth!" she protested again, gaping at him in horror.

If she had been any other pregnant woman, he would have kept his mouth shut for fear of being killed, but he'd never been able to resist an opportunity to rile her up. "What? You know you're gorgeous." Wasn't she the one who was always bragging about how beautiful and accomplished she was?

She blinked at him in surprise. "I am?"

Did she really want him to answer that? "So how're you feeling today?" he asked her, carrying his own plate over to the table. "Are you still… you know?" It wasn't ideal breakfast conversation, but this was the first chance that he'd had to talk to her about it since last night.

"Bleeding?" she supplied, indelicate as always. Somehow he was going to have to convince her to let him handle the manners talks. "A little.

Even a little was too much. "Maybe I should take you back to the hospital," he insisted, afraid that he'd made it worse by talking her into coming out with him. All because he wanted her to buy a stupid TV. He shoved his chair back, but she put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"No, Booth, it's fine. The doctor said that might happen."

Watching her expression closely, he realised that she had to be telling the truth. She wanted this baby too much to lie about something that important. "Okay, but you are _not_ going into the lab," he added to cover his embarrassment over the way that he'd overreacted.

"Cam said if I did, she'd have my access card revoked," she agreed with a smile and even though she tried to pretend that it didn't, he knew that it made her happy to have people in her life who cared that much about her after being on her own for so long.

"So how are you other than that?" he asked. Aside from the occasional observation, she hardly ever talked about her symptoms, as though she'd decided that having a baby alone meant that she had to suffer through the entire pregnancy in silence.

"I'm okay," she assured him. "Tired, but that's to be expected."

He paused as he tried to think of the best way to phrase his next enquiry. "You know, I heard you throwing up this morning." After he'd been woken up by her dry retching, he stood outside the bathroom door for ten minutes debating whether or not he should go in before returning to his own bed on the couch. She seemed to have it under control by then so he figured that she would prefer for him to let her keep what was left of her dignity.

"You shouldn't be worried about me throwing up, Booth," she said.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Of course I'm going to worry about you throwing up, Bones," he insisted. "Do you have any idea how much I hate that sound?" He'd never been able to bear seeing her hurt or in pain. He still wasn't sure how he was going to handle her labour but at least he would have a good excuse to take care of her then.

"No, what I mean is, you should be worried if I wasn't. Morning sickness is a sign that everything's healthy. If I'm still getting sick, it means the chance of me miscarrying…" She stopped when she saw him smiling at her. "What?"

She really had done her homework. "I'm just amazed at how much you know about all of this," he confessed. "I didn't realise they covered this stuff in anthropology journals."

"They don't. I've been doing some reading." She hesitated for a moment, then slid from her chair, padding back down the hall to her bedroom.

When she returned, she was holding a book, presenting it to him almost shyly. "What To Expect When You're Expecting?" he read as he took it from her. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"Angela says it's _the_ pregnancy book," she explained as she returned to her chair. "It goes through each month from conception right up until after the baby's born." She opened it to the chapter she was reading, turning it around so that he could see a black and white diagram."This is a human foetus at approximately twelve weeks."

Studying it with her, he was able to picture the child growing inside of her a lot clearer than he could at the last ultrasound. Everything was already there, arms, legs, fingers, toes, even ears, just in miniature. "It looks like a baby." A very, very _small _baby. It made him even more anxious when he thought about how close they'd come to losing it.

"It _is_ a baby, Booth," she reminded him, smiling at his comment. "Or it will be once it's born."

He didn't care what she said: _that_ was definitely a baby as far as he was concerned. "Would you mind if I borrowed this?" he asked, closing the book. He wanted to look at it some more later when he was alone. Maybe understanding what she was going through would help him to understand her, or at least help him to figure out the best ways to support her, because right now he felt completely out of his depth.

"No, go ahead."

"Thanks."

* * *

"So, what should we do today, Bones?" he asked her as they cleared up after breakfast. It was all so wonderfully domestic: her washing the dishes while he dried them and put them away. He could imagine their baby sitting in its high chair across the kitchen a year from now, and later, playing on mat on the living room floor where they could keep an eye on it. He just wished that there was some way to convince her that this was what they were meant to be doing every day for the rest of their lives. That reality could be just like what she'd dreamed up in her book.

"We? You're not going to work either?" she asked, drying her hands on a dishtowel.

She wasn't the only one who'd racked up an insane amount of sick days. The last time he'd dipped into his was a year ago, after he got shot. "Nope. I took the rest of the week off. Someone's gotta stay here and make sure you don't over exert yourself."

"Well I was just going to work on my book, but we could paint the nursery," she suggested, still not seeming to realise that he'd read it. "I already bought all the paint."

She sounded so enthusiastic about the idea that it killed him to say no, but he didn't want her setting herself up for more heartbreak. "Bones… I don't know that that's such a good idea," he told her gently. "You're not completely out of the woods yet." The image of her with a nursery and no baby to put in it was unbearable, but after how complicated the situation had gotten of late, he didn't know if he had it in him to try again after this. Not unless she wanted to do it the old-fashioned way.

"You're always telling me that I should try to be more optimistic," she insisted. "So this is me being optimistic."

"What about all that stuff you said yesterday, about jinxing it?" he reminded her.

"You were right. I don't believe in jinxes. I believe in evidence, and right now, all of the evidence suggests that our baby is going to be fine."

He didn't know why she'd chosen to phrase it that way, but whatever she was trying to do to him, it worked. "Are you sure about the green?" he asked her to lighten the mood as he led the way into the nursery. "Because once it's done, it's done. I'm not going over it again just because you change your mind…"

After the inevitable argument about paint fumes (during which she assured him the paint was water-based and therefore unlikely to affect a growing foetus), they managed to reach a compromise whereby he would do _most_ of the painting, under her careful supervision, of course.

"Oh man," he groaned, smacking his forehead, spraying flecks of paint into his hair as an unpleasant thought occurred to him.

"What?" she asked from the (well-ventilated) window seat where she was stirring paint, glancing up at him with a mixture of confusion and alarm.

"I just realised that if you're serious about this co-parenting thing, I'm gonna need to get a bigger place." There was barely enough room for him and Parker as it was. He could probably squeeze a baby in too, but eventually babies turned into children and his apartment wasn't equipped to accommodate those.

"Couldn't you just put a crib in Parker's room?" she asked.

It seemed like the obvious solution since Parker didn't sleep there very often, but about when he had both of them at the same time? Then he'd be screwed. "Sure," he agreed. "He would love that. Sharing his room with a screaming baby. Besides, it won't be long before he's a teenager and then he's gonna want his own space. And what if it _is_ a girl? Isn't that illegal?" He sank onto the stepladder, dropping his head into his hands in despair. "I have to move." This was why people bought houses. Maybe he should buy a house. But then what did he need a house when the rest of the time it would just be him?

He'd already gotten her to buy the baby a TV which she seemed quite happy to let him share. He wondered if, using the same special brand of confused Bones logic, he could convince her to buy a house for the baby and let him live there with them. Probably not. To her, moving in together meant a commitment and he knew how she felt about those.

"You're right," she agreed slowly once she'd had time to consider the logistics, looking as overwhelmed as he felt. Four times in twenty four hours. That had to be some kind of record for her. "It would be a lot of upheaval for him. Maybe we shouldn't do this. You can still come by and see us whenever you want," she finished almost apologetically.

If he could only spend time with the baby during short, scheduled visits then he might as well be the sperm donor. Before he knew it, some other guy could be moving in on his territory, taking his place in his kid's life the way Rebecca's boyfriends had with Parker, and then he wouldn't even have that. There had to be a better way of doing this. "We'll figure something out, Bones," he told her, deciding to let the conversation rest for now. They still had six months before custody became an issue, and then he would do whatever he had to make the situation work.

* * *

Since he wouldn't let her anywhere near the stepladder, she left to make dinner while he filled in the area beneath the skirting boards, and afterwards, once the kitchen was back to its usual state, they moved to the couch to enjoy her new one hundred and fifty inch flat screen. Or rather, he enjoyed the flat screen while she dozed beside him with a book on her lap, her head drooping lower and lower until it finally came to rest on his shoulder.

Careful not to disturb her, he took his arm from the back of the couch and wrapped it experimentally around her. He'd hugged her more times than he could count, but he'd never just held her before. It felt good. It felt even better that she didn't seem to mind.

"Booth? Do you regret it?" she murmured, without opening her eyes.

He was sure that she was asleep, otherwise he might not have been so bold. "Regret what?" he prompted her, afraid for a moment that she'd figured out that he read her book.

"Having a baby with me."

He tried to think of what he'd done to give her that impression. "Of course not," he assured her. "No kid of mine could ever be a mistake. Not Parker and not this little one." He placed his other hand on her slightly rounded stomach, patting it gently. She didn't remove it.

Instead, she just smiled. "Good, because I don't regret having a baby with you," she confessed, her voice slurred with sleep, burrowing deeper into his chest as though he were a human pillow.

He sat stock still unsure of the right way to respond. Even though she was alert enough to carry on a conversation, he couldn't help but wonder if she was fully aware of what she was doing, or who she was doing it with. He doubted that she would be so affectionate if she were.

"I think it's time you went to bed," he told her, peeling her arms away from his torso. He tried to help her to sit up, but as soon as he let it go, her head lolled back against him. "Bones?" Nothing. "Brennan?" Still nothing. As far as he could tell, she was dead to the world. "Bren?" he whispered, trying out the nickname from the book. When even this failed to elicit a response, he knew that she wasn't faking. She'd never been that good of an actress.

She couldn't stay on the couch all night, so disentangling himself from her, he scooped her up into his arms, carrying her bridal style into her room. As he laid her carefully on the bed, her lips curled into a smile, but he couldn't tell if she was smiling at him or something in her dream. When she didn't show any other signs of waking, he decided that it had to be the latter.

He took a throw rug from the back of a chair and spread it over her in case the temperature dropped during the night. Then, without stopping to think about what he was doing, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead and exited the room, closing the door softly behind him.

* * *

_Just to explain: since Booth was only in a coma for four days (which isn't really enough time to write a complete novel), for the purpose of this story, I'm proposing that Brennan actually wrote the book before the events of The Critic in the Cabernet. And that maybe the book and her sudden desire to have a baby are connected. ;)_


	13. Chapter 13

_Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad people are still enjoying it. ;)_

* * *

Chapter 13.

"Booth? Booth, wake up," a distant voice called, startling him out of a dream in which he and Brennan were married, only instead of a baby, they had a goat.

"What? I'm awake." He snapped his eyes open to discover his partner looming over the couch. "Bones, what's wrong? Is the baby…?"

"You were supposed to drive me to my follow up appointment this morning," she said, frowning down at him, her hands finding their way to her hips. "Did you forget?"

He glanced at the clock. It was almost ten-thirty. Crap. After he put her to bed, he'd gotten so engrossed in the baby book that he'd stayed up most of the night reading it, and as a result, he'd slept later than he intended to. So much for showing her that she could trust him not to let her down. "Of course I didn't forget," he assured her. He kicked off the comforter, ignoring the ache of protest in his back as he forced himself to sit up. "Just give me a minute to change my clothes." He fished a t-shirt and a clean pair of jeans out of his bag and hurried into the bathroom to get dressed.

When he emerged a few minutes later she was folding his bedding into neat little squares. "You read the book," she commented, setting the pile down beside where it lay page down on the coffee table.

"Is that a good thing?" he asked her. A lot of the details were very pretty intimate, and if he was completely honest, more than a little gross. Did she really want him to know all that stuff about parts of her body that he was still yet to see?

"Yes," she agreed, and he relaxed. This was Bones. Of course she wouldn't be ashamed of a normal biological process. She was too practical for that. "I must admit, I'm impressed with the interest you've shown in my pregnancy. Thus far you've proven yourself to be a very reliable co-parent."

After the candour of the night before, her words were loaded with the usual squint-speak, but even so, he was pleased to hear that the sentiment behind them remained the same. She wanted this. With him.

"I'm gonna go ahead and assume that you meant that as a compliment," he teased her.

"Then your assumption would be correct," she agreed.

* * *

An hour later, to their great relief, her doctor had issue both her and the baby with a clean bill of health.

"So does that mean I can go back to work?" Brennan asked, fidgeting impatiently while the ultrasound tech cleaned the gel off her stomach.

"I don't see why not," the doctor agreed.

"Just don't go nuts, okay?" Booth insisted, before she could get too excited. "You need to start taking care of yourself before you wind up back in hospital." He couldn't go through that again, especially now when there was nothing to stop him from getting attached to his soon to be son or daughter.

"He's been like this ever since they discharged me," she told the doctor in a confidential tone. "He's very protective of both of us." Even he could see that she seemed almost smug.

So smug, in fact, that the doctor looked taken aback. "You know, I was surprised to see you again, Seeley," she said. "I got the impression that last time was a one off." He couldn't blame her. Last she'd heard he was just a friend who was kind enough to offer his sperm.

"Booth will be attending all of my appointments from now on," Brennan informed her, before he could answer. "He'll also be present at the birth." She looked to him for confirmation and he nodded. All the murders in the world couldn't keep him away from the delivery room this time. He didn't care how bloody it was.

The doctor glanced from her to Booth and back again. "Does this mean that the two of you are…?"

"Planning to raise the child together?" Brennan supplied. He wasn't used to her being this… aggressive. At least not outside of the lab. It was an unexpected turn on for him. "Yes." She beamed over at him. "I have decided that it would be beneficial to involve Booth after all."

"Congratulations," the doctor told him. "You must be very happy."

She was clearly under the impression that they were now a couple and his partner had done nothing to discourage that. He considered correcting her on this point, just for the sake of clarification, but what was the point of trying to explain something that he wasn't sure he understood himself? Besides, maybe this would convince her to stop trying to hit on him. Not that he wasn't flattered, of course, because she was a good looking woman, and under different circumstances, he could see himself being very attracted to her, but he had his eye on a higher prize.

He offered Brennan his hand, beaming back at her when she accepted it, allowing him to help her down from the exam table. "We are."

* * *

"What d'you say we go to the diner to celebrate?" he asked her as he started up his SUV.

"I thought you said the diner wasn't an appropriate venue for celebration?" she reminded him.

As always, she seemed to have taken his words to heart. "Do you always have to be so literal about everything?" It wasn't like they would actually be celebrating, just getting back to their normal lives.

"Do you want me to answer that literally?" she retorted, her eyes sparkling with mischief, struggling to hold back her grin at what to most people wouldn't be a particularly funny joke.

God he loved this woman. She had the strangest, most incomprehensible, and at times, inappropriate, sense of humour of anyone he'd ever met, and yet somehow, he could always count on her to make him laugh. "Touché, Bones."

* * *

He waited until they were settled at their usual table with the usual burger and fries for him and tasteless vegetarian concoction for her before he decided to broach the issue that had been weighing on his mind ever since their conversation in the nursery. "Y'know, Bones, I've been thinking, now that you're safely past the first trimester, we should probably let Parker in on the news. That way he has time to adjust."

"To me being pregnant?" she asked, looking dubious.

"No, to the idea that he's gonna be a big brother."

Was that fear on her face? "Of course," she agreed, resting her spoon on the rim of her bowl. "This child is going to be Parker's half sibling. I hadn't considered that."

It was easy to forget about Parker in all of this. He knew because he'd done it himself when he'd handed over his sperm without considering the impact that it might have on him. "Does that mean you're having second thoughts about… about what we discussed?" he pressed, afraid that she would use this as an excuse to try to let him off the hook. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut this time and just signed whatever she gave him. He didn't want to trap her though.

"No, I just… You don't think he'll be upset, do you?" she asked quietly. "I don't want him to resent me. Or the child."

"Whoa." How could she even say that? "Why would he resent either of you?" Parker loved Bones. She'd been a constant presence in his life since he was little more than a toddler, hanging out with them, teaching him new things, buying him birthday and Christmas gifts.

"According to the books I've been reading on child development, the presence of a new sibling can cause feelings of jealousy and resentment in children who are accustomed to being the sole offspring," she explained. "By the time this child is born, Parker will have had you to himself for eight years. It's not uncommon for a child his age to act out when his position in the family is threatened."

He barely had time to wrap his mind around this possibility before she was off racing again with a new concern. "I hope this doesn't get you into trouble with Rebecca. I can't imagine that she will be pleased given that we're not currently in a committed relationship. Although she's hardly in a position to judge _you_ for having a child out of wedlock."

She was starting to make his head hurt. He pushed his own plate away with his burger still mostly untouched. "Parker is a good kid, Bones," he reminded her gently. "He's not gonna act out." At least he hoped that he wouldn't. He wasn't so sure now. "But if you're really worried about it, why don't you let me talk to him first? Then maybe we could find some way to include him in the pregnancy, you know, like take him with us to your next ultrasound or something." He was sure that if his son could just see his future brother or sister, he would come to love it as much as they did.

She nodded slowly, flashing him a watery smile. "You are a very good father, Booth. Parker and our child are both very lucky."

* * *

The sun was setting by the time she let them back into her apartment. Even though she wasn't due to officially return to work until tomorrow, she'd insisted on stopping in after lunch to check on things at her lab.

"So, I guess you don't need me here anymore," he said, as they stood in her foyer, daring her to contradict him.

"I guess not," she agreed, the disappointment in her voice mirroring his own. He'd enjoyed playing house with her, more than he wanted to admit, and he felt like she had too. "You do have a chiropractic mattress at home."

"That's true." He didn't think his back could take another night of sleeping on the couch.

"And Parker is coming over this weekend."

"Also true." It would be good for them to have some one on one bonding time with what he had to tell him.

"Would you at least like to stay for dinner?" she asked hopefully. "I could make mac and cheese again."

Anything that she wanted to cook for him would have been a thousand times more inviting than whatever was waiting for him in the fridge back at his own apartment. The fact that it was mac and cheese was even more perfect. "How can I say no to that?"

* * *

It was every bit as good as he remembered. "You have to make this for the baby. Not _now_," he insisted when she looked like she was about to protest. "When he's old enough to eat solid food."

"If you think it will like it," she agreed.

"Are you kidding? Mac and cheese is a staple of any American kid's diet. It was all Parker would eat for an entire year."

He could tell by her expression that she didn't approve. "That doesn't sound very nutritional. Especially if it was straight out of the packet."

She had all of these ideas about parenting that put him to shame, but he couldn't help wondering how quickly she would change her tune once she was faced with the realities of trying to control another human being. "You wait until our kid is two or three and he decides that he doesn't like most of what you put in front of him," he told her. "You'll give up on nutrition and just be grateful when you can get him to eat at all."

It occurred to him that this might not have been the most sensitive thing to say when some of the colour left her face. "Sometimes I feel like I'll never be ready," she said quietly.

"For fussy eating? Trust me, no parent ever is."

"For this." She waved a hand in front of her stomach. "Having a child. Being a mother. What if I make a mistake and our child ends up emotionally scarred like me?"

It broke his heart to see her so convinced that she was actually capable of screwing up their child like that. How could she be so confident in some areas of her life and so insecure in others? "That's not gonna happen, okay?" he assured her. "You just have to take it one day at a time. And I'll be right there with you every step of the way. I won't let you mess it up."

"We do make a very good team," she agreed with a smile.

He reached across the table for her hand, squeezing it lightly. "The best."

"I'm glad that I'm doing this with you," she confessed, watching their hands as she wove her fingers through his. "You're the only one I would trust."

When she glanced back up at him, her blue eyes were soft and inviting. He leant towards her, encouraged when she mimicked the gesture. She didn't look like she was opposed to the idea of him kissing her. He was about to close the remainder of the distance between them when his mind flashed back on the promise he'd just made. It had taken him four months to convince her to let him in this far. What if, with that one action, he sent them right back to square one? He dropped her hand. This wasn't just about them anymore. The future of their family was too important for him to gamble away on a hormone-induced whim.

She seemed to have reached a similar conclusion.

"I should—" They both began at the same time, standing up from their chairs.

"—go home."

"—go to bed," she finished. "We have a big day ahead of us."

"Not _too _big," he reminded her.

"Right," she agreed. "Nine to five."

"With an hour for lunch."

"Half an hour," she bartered with a lopsided grin.

"As long as you spend that time sitting down, eating," he told her.

"Deal."

He held out his hand and they shook on it.

Once his plate was in the sink, he went into the living room to collect his bag from where it he'd tossed it on the floor by the couch.

"Thank you," she said as she walked with him to the door. "For taking care of me. You weren't under any obligation to do that, so… thank you. I'll never forget it."

"You don't have to thank me, Bones," he reminded her. "I'm the baby daddy." And even if he wasn't… It was just what they did.

"No, Booth, you're the father," she corrected him. "That's better."

Almost as an afterthought, she lifted herself up on her toes, pecking his cheek gently. "Goodnight, Booth."

"Goodnight, Bones. See you tomorrow." If he didn't have a valid reason to go to the lab, he would find one.

"Tomorrow," she agreed.


	14. Chapter 14

_Thanks for the reviews. Sorry in advance for any typos. I've been busy lately and I wanted to get this up before I had to go to work again._

* * *

Chapter 14.

"You're already eating," Booth said, disappointed when he wandered into his partner's office around noon to find her sitting on the couch with her lunch spread out in front of her. "I was gonna see if you wanted to go to the diner."

"Sorry. You can have half of this," she offered, pushing the remainder of her sandwich towards him.

She scooted over slightly and he plopped down beside her. "What's in it?" he asked, picking it up and giving it an experimental sniff.

"Tofu."

"Ugh." He promptly put it back down, wiping his hands on the sides of his pants. "If you keep that up our kid's gonna come out green."

"It's scientifically impossible for a human child to be born with green skin. Unless it's jaundiced and then it would be more of a yellowish colour. Besides, vegetarianism can be very healthy for infants."

"Oh no, my kid is _not_ gonna be a vegetarian. You are not depriving him of the joy of biting into a big fat juicy steak."

Brennan looked like she was about to protest when a third voice interrupted. "Wait, did I just hear right?" Booth looked up to see Angela frozen in the doorway. He wished he had a camera to capture her expression. "Your kid?"

"Yep," he agreed, unable to conceal his pride at finally being able to say it out loud. "Seeley Booth is gonna be a daddy. Again."

"Booth wishes to retain his paternal rights over the child," Brennan translated in a more reasonable tone.

"And you're okay with this?" Angela asked her, gaping at her as though she'd gone insane. He thought that his partner would have mentioned it before now, but then disclosure had never been her strong suit.

"Why wouldn't I be? Booth is an excellent father," she agreed and he preened a little. "With his influence, it's likely that my child will turn out as well as Parker."

"So you're having a baby together, but the two of you aren't actually _together_?" Angela pressed, glancing from one of them to the other.

Sensing where she was going with it, Booth wondered if now would be the time to make himself scare.

"No," Brennan agreed, suddenly very intent on brushing the crumbs from her lap.

Angela shook her head, rolling her eyes heavenward with an exasperated sigh. "You realise this is the grown up version of playing mommies and daddies?" she said, a note of suggestion creeping into her voice as she added, "Only without the playing."

"I will be the mother and Booth will be the father…" Brennan agreed slowly, not following as usual.

And as usual, Booth knew exactly what the artist was implying. "I don't think that's what she meant, Bones," he told his partner, refusing to meet Angela's eyes.

"See, he gets it," she said, and Booth was glad that he couldn't see her face. He hated how easily she could make him blush with embarrassment. "Didn't you and Russ ever play make believe when you were growing up? You know, like where you pretend you're the mom and he's the dad and a doll is your baby?"

"I fail to see the similarity," Brennan insisted, deflecting the question, which Booth figured meant that they had, but she didn't want to talk about her childhood. "Booth and I aren't pretending anything, Angela. Unlike when I was a child, I am actually pregnant."

"Whatever you say, sweetie," she said with a smirk as she turned to leave, presumably to go share this piece of gossip with Hodgins or Cam.

"What? I showed her the picture they took at my ultrasound," Brennan complained when she was gone.

"She knows you wouldn't lie about something like that, Bones," he assured her, even though deep down, he couldn't help wondering if she was being deliberately obtuse.

"What time are you picking up Parker?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Five. He has soccer practice after school. Then I'm taking him out to dinner. I figure he won't kill me with that many witnesses."

"Will you call me and let me know what happens?"

"Sure. Then maybe I can bring him over tomorrow to see you."

"I would like that."

* * *

Even though it wasn't a special occasion, he decided to splurge on taking him to Chuck E. Cheese's. He wanted Parker to be in a good mood when he told him and there was no way that his son could be mad at him or Brennan surrounded by rides and arcade games.

He wasn't sure how to go about broaching the subject until he notice him watching a group of kids who all appeared to be siblings.

"How would you feel about having a brother or sister?" he asked him. "You know, you could play with it, teach it things… How does that sound?"

Parker shrugged. "I don't know. Okay, I guess. Why?"

"Well," he began, choosing his next words carefully, "because Bones is gonna have a baby soon, and I would really like for it to be part of our family too."

"You mean like she would be its mom and you would be its dad?"

"Yeah. Like that," he agreed.

"Why do you need a baby when you have me? Babies are boring. All they do is sit there and drool."

Bones was right. He _was_ jealous. "Parker, me having another kid wouldn't change anything between us. You can still come and stay with me and I'll still take you places and come to your games. I just might have to bring the baby along with me sometimes."

"What if I don't want you to bring it along? Does that mean you don't have to be its dad anymore?"

"No," he confessed. "I'm sorry, bub, but that's not how this works." It was happening whether he liked it or not. He was just going to have to learn to get used to the idea. "You know, I felt the same way before your Uncle Jared was born. I was worried my mom and dad wouldn't love me anymore. But you know what? Not only did they still love me, but I had a little brother who loved me as well."

He watched as his son took this in. "Is it a boy baby or a girl baby?" he asked finally and Booth smiled.

"We don't know yet."

"Can you make it a boy baby so I can have a brother?"

"I'm not sure I can control that but I'll do my best," he assured him. He figured that there was a fifty-fifty chance that his son would get his wish. In the Booth family, the male sperm did seem to be particularly potent.

This seemed to satisfy him. "Where is it now?"

"In Bones' tummy." Please don't ask how it got in there, he prayed. He wasn't ready to have that talk with him yet. Especially in the middle of a family restaurant.

"How long does it have to stay in there?"

Phew. "Until it's ready to come out."

"When will that be?"

Geez he had a lot of questions. "After Christmas."

"Does that mean it won't get any presents?"

Up until that point, he'd anticipated most of his son's responses, but this one was so unexpected that he couldn't help but laugh. "We can buy one for it and you can give it to it later if you want," he told him.

They went back to eating their meals in silence until Parker asked, "Daddy, are you in love with Bones?"

Booth almost choked on a mouthful of pizza. "What makes you say that?" he rasped, hitting his chest to dislodge it. He took a long pull of soda in an attempt to stop himself from coughing.

"Mom says you have to be in love to have a baby."

Ironic, considering who it was coming from. "What she should have told you is that there are different kinds of love," he said when he recovered, fumbling for an answer that he would understand. "Like I love _you_ because you're my son, but I also love Bones because she's my friend."

"Annie Peterson is _my_ friend. Does that mean I should have a baby with her?" Parker asked innocently.

Oh God. They were warping him. He was going to think this was normal. It wasn't like he and Rebecca had set a very good example. "You know what? Yes. I am in love with Bones." It wasn't like it was a lie. Not really. After all, isn't that the reason he agreed to let her have his baby in the first place?

"If you're in love with Bones and you're having a baby with her, does that mean you're gonna get married?"

He reached across the table to scruff his son's hair affectionately. "Maybe you should save that one for Bones, huh?"

* * *

Parker was exhausted by the time he got him home. Once he was tucked into bed, Booth took a beer from the fridge and went into the living room to call Brennan.

"How did your dinner with Parker go?" she asked. From the way she answered on the first ring, he guessed that she must have been waiting. He wondered what she'd been doing with herself since he last saw her. He missed their evenings together.

"Great. I'm pretty sure I've ruined his chances of ever having a functional relationship with a woman, but other than that, he seems to be taking it surprisingly well."

"You have a functional relationship with me," she offered helpfully.

If only she knew. "Romantic relationship, Bones."

"Oh. In that case, Parker is doomed," she said but he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Was that a joke, Bones?"

"Yes. I find that I am more inclined to be humorous since becoming pregnant."

"That means you're happy."

* * *

"Is that where my brother is?" Parker asked almost as soon as Brennan had closed the door behind them, pointing in the direction of her stomach.

"Parker," Booth hissed, shocked by his son's bluntness. "What have I told you about that?"

Of course this didn't seem to bother his partner, who was used to being around people with poorly developed social skills. "Or sister," she reminded him. "And yes. Would you like to touch it?"

"Gently," Booth warned him as he stepped forward.

"It's okay, Booth," she insisted in that tone that told him she thought he was being needlessly protective. "He can't hurt it. It's cushioned by the amniotic sac."

Now, but Booth wanted him to get into the habit of being careful with his much smaller, more vulnerable sibling.

As he watched his son press his hand against her little bump, remembering what he said about being gentle, he felt a pang of what he knew was irrational jealousy. In the almost three months since she'd told him that she was pregnant, she'd never once invited him to feel it before. It looked like that one furtive touch was going to have to last him until the baby started kicking.

He could see that his son still wasn't convinced. "Is there really a baby in there? It must be pretty squished."

"Come with me," she said, leading him into the kitchen. Curious to know what she was up to, Booth trailed after them. She seemed to have it under control, although he still couldn't help feeling a little apprehensive about what she might say and how Rebecca would react.

Wordlessly, she opened the fridge, rummaging through the vegetable drawer until she found what she was looking for. "Right now, it's approximately the size of this peach," she told Parker, placing the fruit in his hands.

His son stared down at it in amazement. "Wow. Was I that small when I was a baby?"

"Yes. But you weren't a baby then, you were what we scientists call a foetus, which is what your future brother or sister will be until it's born. We were all foetuses once, and all foetuses are that small. Before that we were embryos, and zygotes, which are even smaller."

"How small?"

"So small that you could only see us through a microscope."

"Even my dad?"

"Yes. Even your dad was that small," she agreed, smiling when she caught Booth's eye.

He was too awed by her mini science lesson to speak so he just smiled back at her. She was so smart. He never would have thought to explain it that way.

"Do you have any more questions?" she asked.

"Yeah." He held up the peach. "I'm hungry. Can I eat it?"

* * *

While Booth couldn't help but worry about what Sweets would make of Parker eating his future brother or sister, Brennan wasn't sure why he found it so disturbing.

"He was hungry, Booth," she insisted as he helped her with dinner. "And anyway, it wasn't actually his sibling so it's not like it counts as cannibalism".

Aside from that one incident, Parker seemed fine, so he decided that she was probably right.

After dinner, Parker produced a DVD and they educated her on _SpongeBob_ as promised.

"Bikini Bottom – I get it," she said with a grin, causing Booth to laugh.

"I think most people get it, Bones. It's not exactly subtle," he teased her.

Eventually, his son fell asleep between them on the couch, signalling that it was time for Booth to take him home.

"You were amazing today, you know that?" he told his partner as he carried him to the door. "The way you handled Parker… You're gonna be a great mom."

"All I did was tell him the truth," she insisted.

"Yeah, well, sometimes kids, they need that."


	15. Chapter 15

_Thanks for the reviews. I decided to skip ahead a few weeks in this chapter in order to keep things moving. I know you're probably all eager for me to get to the fun stuff, like Booth getting to feel his baby move for the first time.  
_

* * *

Chapter 15.

"You know, pretty soon you won't be able to do that," Booth called, grinning at the familiar sight of his partner bent low over her exam table, studying some mark on the bone. At just shy of sixteen weeks, her belly had really popped, making it increasingly obvious that she was pregnant, except of course when she was wearing her lab coat like she was now. Still, it was only a matter of time when even that wouldn't be enough to conceal that fact. Not that he wanted her to.

She waited until he joined her on the platform to speak. "Did you really drive all the way over here to tease me about the size of my uterus?"

"No, I came to check on the case." He tried to sound convincing but he never could put anything past her.

"You mean you came to check on me," she insisted. "Booth, I'm fine, the foetus is fine – just like the last time you were here."

Was he really that transparent? "Can you blame me? I mean you're having my kid." Ever since she broke the news, he hadn't been able to stop worrying about her and the baby: Had she eaten today? Did she remember to take those horse pills her doctor prescribed? What time did she go home? Only now he was actually allowed to express his concern. Even if it drove her crazy sometimes.

"Were you this smothering when Rebecca was pregnant?"

Only with you, he wanted to tell her. She'd always managed to bring out that side of him, even before she got pregnant. "I prefer to think of it as being attentive. You know, some women like that." When he could see that she wanted to argue with him, he added, "Not all, but some."

"Women like Rebecca?" she pressed, returning to her examination.

He wasn't sure why she was so fixated on talking about his ex, until it occurred to him that as the only other woman ever to have a child with him, she had to be curious about her. "No," he admitted. "To be attentive to someone, you actually have to be allowed near them first."

She glanced up at him with compassion. "I'm sorry Rebecca tried to keep you from being involved in her pregnancy, Booth. She shouldn't have done that."

He wondered if she realised that she could almost be talking about herself. "Thanks, Bones. It means a lot." And it did, coming from her, the mother of his _other_ child.

"Do you have plans this weekend?" she asked after several moments of silence, during which he tried very had not notice how impressive her pregnancy cleavage was from this angle.

"Not really," he confessed, determined not to sound too eager about the prospect of getting to spend time with her away from the lab in case that wasn't what she had in mind. "Why?"

"I'm going to look at furniture for the nursery and Angela that suggested you might like to accompany me."

"Wait, _Angela_ suggested it?" he repeated, miffed that she hadn't thought of inviting him herself. It reminded him of when you were a kid and the only reason your classmate asked you to his birthday party was because his parents made him.

"Well, I asked her first," she agreed as if that should make him feel better instead of worse, "but apparently one of her friends from art school has a showing in New York." Seeing his expression, she rushed on, "It's nothing personal, Booth. I just know how much you hate shopping."

"For shirts, Bones. Not for my kid," he assured her. "Of course I wanna come with you."

He could see that she was pleased with his acceptance. "Angela said you would say that."

"Angela is a smart woman. You should listen to her," he agreed, mostly because he knew that she was on his side, even though she would never tell her best friend that. If she was really going to be in New York she would have suggested that they postpone the shopping trip until next weekend. It wasn't like Brennan was due to have the baby any time soon.

"Well, I should be ready by nine, then maybe we can stop at the diner on the way? I've been craving Belgian waffles ever since we left there this morning. I will never understand why being pregnant makes me eat like a child."

"Oh, so I'm picking you up, am I?" he couldn't resist teasing her. For someone who hadn't even wanted to invite him she seemed pretty enthusiastic about the idea.

"There's more room in the Sequoia."

"Ha! So you _do_ need me!" he gloated. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

"Just your car."

He felt his grin wilt, along, he was sure, with other parts of his anatomy. "You know, Bones," he complained, "you really need to learn how to just humour people."

* * *

The next day, he arrived at her apartment promptly before nine and they ate a leisurely breakfast at the diner before hitting the shopping district. She wanted to go straight to IKEA but reluctant to cut the trip short, he convinced her that the mall was a better place to start. After all, a crib wasn't the only thing the baby would need.

"How neat is this?" he exclaimed when, while browsing a store that sold novelty kids' clothes, he stumbled across a blue onesie with the words 'Daddy's Little Special Agent' printed across the front. There was one for almost every occupation he could think of – from doctor to librarian – but that was by far the coolest. He held it up for his partners' approval. "Imagine our kid wearing this."

"The minimum age for recruitment by the FBI is twenty-three years old," she pointed out, frowning first at the onesie, then at him. "This child won't be eligible—" There she went again, ruining it with her Vulcan logic. "What?" she insisted when he shoved it back onto the rack with a sigh. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Why does everything have to be logical with you?" he whined, frustrated by her inability to act like a normal person, even just this once. "We're shopping for a baby, not a miniature adult. What's wrong with buying something just because it's cute?"

"Ohhhh," she said, her face lighting up with recognition as understanding dawned on her. "You were trying to be whimsical. In that case, this is very cute." Her face split into a broad grin as she picked up one that read 'Future Biped'.

It was his turn to be confused. "I don't get it," he confessed, suddenly apprehensive at the thought that this woman was going to be raising his child.

"It's an anthropology joke," she explained. "See, all infants start out as quadrupeds during the crawling stage, but then they 'evolve' to bipeds when they begin walking."

He felt his eyebrow lift as she continued to chuckle to herself. "Hilarious," he agreed, even though he wasn't sure why she found this so funny. "But mine is still better."

"Why are you so against the idea of our child being a 'squint'?" she complained, putting it back. "Are you worried that it will say inappropriate things and embarrass you too?"

How was it that she could make him feel like an ass without even trying? "No!" he assured her quickly. "Our kid can be anything it wants."

"So then how about this one?" She showed him a pink onesie that said 'I like...' followed by a bunch of squiggly lines that looked like of those arches that made up Stonehenge.

"What is that? Some kind of science thing?" he asked.

"It's Pi," she told him in a tone of voice that suggested that this should be obvious. "Get it? It's a pun. 'I like Pi'… 'I like pie'."

This time he couldn't help but share her smile. "Oh, well, now _that_ is something I think we can both agree on."

* * *

Choosing a crib didn't take as long as Booth expected. Brennan was never one for wasting time.

"Don't tell me you like that one," he said when his partner made a beeline for one that was built from the same dark wood as the rest of the furniture in her apartment.

"Why? What's wrong with it?" she asked.

"Well, for starters, it only has three sides," he pointed out.

"It has a fourth side, Booth." She demonstrated by pushing it back into place. "It's convertible."

Okay, so he probably should have realised that, but still, was that even safe? "I'd feel a lot better if it didn't come off. I mean isn't that the whole point of having sides? To keep the baby from falling out?"

She didn't seem to be paying attention to his rant. "I know," she agreed happily, running her fingers along the top of the rail. "That's what makes it perfect."

"For what? Head injuries?" he insisted, wondering if they were having the same conversation.

She gave him a strange look. "Co-sleeping."

"What now?" As far as he knew, that wasn't an actual word.

"It's a parenting strategy," she explained. "Instead of putting the infant to bed alone in a separate room, co-sleeping parents allow their infants to sleep with them. It's very convenient for breastfeeding."

He couldn't believe that she would actually consider doing something as dangerous as that. "Have you lost your mind? No, okay? No," he repeated, firmer this time. "You are not keeping our baby in bed with you while you're asleep. What if you rolled over and…?" He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. It was too horrifying.

She looked like she was trying hard not to smile. "It wouldn't actually be in bed with me, Booth. Just close enough that it could still see and smell me. In most cultures it's customary for children to sleep with their parents during their formative years. Western society is the only one that frowns on it. There's research to suggest that it not only does it promote bonding, but it may actually reduce the likelihood of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome as well."

He should have known that she would have some kind of anthropological justification for it."Well what about sex?" he prompted her. "Have you even thought about what having a baby – or worse, a kid – in your room all the time is gonna do to your sex life?"

She actually laughed."I'm going to be a single mother, Booth," she reminded him.

"Yeah, but you might still wanna date," he pointed out. They'd never talked about what would happen to the arrangement if one of them met someone.

"Courtship rituals serve a primarily reproductive function. Since I will already have a child, there's no reason for me to continue to put myself out there."

He should have been jumping for joy at the idea of her taking herself off the market, but instead all he could think was, "So what? You're just never gonna have sex again?" He found that hard to believe.

"I didn't say that I was _never _going to have sex," she corrected him seriously, "but I have no intention of bringing strange men home to the apartment where my child sleeps."

He knew that her protectiveness shouldn't surprise him, especially given her own childhood, but somehow it did. He wondered if he would ever get used to the image of her as a mother. "What about me? I mean, you didn't seem worried about me being around your kid before we decided to do this co-parenting thing."

"That's different," she insisted. "You're my partner. Not to mention the child's biological father. I always imagined that you would spend time with it, the same way that I spend time with Parker."

In other words, she was determined to keep both parts of her life separate. Why did she have to overcomplicate everything with these ridiculous rationalisations? Why couldn't the man who was helping her raise her child be the same man who shared her bed? It had worked for her parents.

"If you're not gonna date, does that mean that I can't?" he asked her. Even though he wasn't sure that he wanted to follow through on the conversation, he couldn't deny the fact that he was curious to know how she would react to this question.

He thought he saw a brief stirring of emotion in her eyes, but whatever it was, she quickly suppressed it. "I'm not your wife, Booth. You don't need my permission to have a social life. You're free to have sex with whoever you want."

The harshness of her phrasing wasn't lost on him. "Except that we're having a baby together," he reminded her, "which means that one day, one of the women I date could be your kid's stepmother." He knew that he was upsetting her with this conversation, but he wanted to see if she would cry uncle.

"That's all hypothetical," she protested, her voice rising just enough to register her agitation, and he was pleased to see that she was rattled by the idea of him having a family that didn't include her. "Unless there's already someone with whom you wish to pursue a romantic relationship?" When he didn't confirm or deny this, she continued, "It's Dr. Edwards, isn't it? That woman is very unprofessional."

It was clear that she wasn't going to give him what he wanted so he decided to let it go for now. "Calm down, okay? I am not gonna date the woman who's delivering our kid. That would be wrong on so many levels. But if you do have a problem with me dating then you need to tell me." All she had to do was say the word and she would never have to worry about him being with anyone else ever again.

"I don't have a problem with you dating," she insisted. "I just don't understand why you're thinking about this now when I haven't even given birth yet. Shouldn't you at least adjust to having an infant again before you make any other major changes in your life?"

"You're right," he agreed, disappointed that she wasn't going to give him anything today. "This isn't the time or the place. We'll talk about it later."

She didn't answer, turning back to the crib with a stony expression.

"You're sure about this one?" he asked her to break the silence that followed.

"Yes," she agreed, relaxing again now that it was clear that he wasn't going to push the issue any further today.

"Then why don't you let me buy it for you? You know, as a baby gift. I have to get you something anyway." He snuck a glance at the price tag. Four hundred dollars? Ouch. It was a little pricier than what he would have chosen himself, but if she liked it that much then he wanted her to have it. Their kid deserved to sleep somewhere comfortable.

"No, Booth. It's too extravagant. You've already given me enough. I wouldn't even be having this baby if it weren't for you."

He knew what she was thinking – he couldn't afford this; not like she could – but he was tired of not being allowed to take care of his kids. Wasn't that supposed to make him a more attractive mate? And yet all any of these women seem to want from him was his sperm. "Remember what I said about humouring people? Just do me a favour and don't argue, okay?"

Before she could continue her protest he flagged down a sales assistant. "We're getting this one," he told him, pointing to the crib.

When he glanced back at Brennan, she had tilted her head to the side, giving him a look that he knew all too well. "Is this an alpha male thing? You feel like you have to prove to me that you can successfully provide for our child?"

At least that was a concept that she could relate to."Yeah," he agreed. "It's an alpha male thing."


	16. Chapter 16

_Thanks for the reviews. I had a hard time with this chapter but hopefully it turned out okay. I was a little nervous about posting it. I'm dedicating it (and chapter 17) to my friend and fellow Lost/Bones vidder, Freya, who listened to my ideas and helped me to develop them into what you see here. ;)  
_

* * *

Chapter 16.

Brennan still hadn't returned to her office by the time Booth finally managed to slip away to the Jeffersonian so he flopped down on the couch to wait for her. He was supposed to go with her to her sixteen week check up but when, with only half an hour to go, the suspect that he'd been interrogating still hadn't shown any signs of cracking, he was forced to call and cancel on her. She'd taken the news surprisingly well, offering to reschedule it for a later date, but after how close they'd come to losing the baby just a few weeks before, he didn't want her to risk putting it off.

He opened his eyes when he heard her familiar brisk footsteps approach. Despite the fact that her centre of gravity was shifting, she still moved with as much impatience as ever, as though she were perpetually late for something. He wondered how much longer she would be able to keep that up. He was actually looking forward to the day when she started to develop that cute pregnant way of walking. He was looking forward to a lot of things about her being pregnant.

"I'm really sorry I had to miss your appointment, Bones," he greeted her, sitting up when she breezed past him without seeming to notice him there on the couch. "You have to know I wanted to be there."

She dropped her purse onto her desk as she moved behind it, stooping to check something on her computer. Her emails, he guessed. "Dr. Edwards was disappointed when I told her you weren't coming," she said in an impassive tone, without looking over him.

It didn't take a genius like her to figure out where this was going. "Bones, you have to stop that, okay? I told you, I'm not interested in your doctor." How many times did they have to have this conversation before she believed him?

"She seems very interested in you," she insisted.

How he would have loved to be a fly on the wall in that room. He wasn't sure what it was about the doctor that got so far under her skin. "Well, right now I'm more interested in _you_," he told her, hoping to get her off the subject. "What happened? How's our little guy doing?"

She settled back into her chair, folding her hands over her belly. "Our little guy," she repeated, her features softening into what was quickly becoming his favourite expression,"or girl, grew two and a half inches this month." She straightened, reaching into her purse and sliding something from between the pages of a hardcover notebook. "This is for you," she told him, holding it out to him. "I got them to print out two copies."

He knew what it was without having to look. "Thanks, Bones," he said as he crossed over to the desk to accept the print out from her. He poured over it eagerly, smiling as he traced the pronounced curve of their child's skull with his fingers. It looked more and more like a baby each time he saw it. His smile grew as his eyes landed on the spot where its tiny hand rested in front of its mouth. "No way! Is he _sucking his thumb_?"

"It appeared that way on the ultrasound, yes," she agreed.

"Already?" He couldn't believe that he'd missed it. "Would you look at that? My kid is a genius!"

"It's quite common for foetuses to practice their sucking reflex by sucking their thumbs, Booth," she explained, "but I will admit, it was very cute," she finished, leaning across the desk to admire it with him. "I wish you'd been there to see it."

He wished that he had too. Why was it that their child had chosen the one appointment that he hadn't been able to attend to do truly something awe-inspiring? "You know, Bones, that's the second time I've heard that word come out of your mouth this week," he teased her. "You're really getting into the whole mom thing, aren't you?"

"It's natural for mothers to bond with their offspring during pregnancy," she insisted in that tone that told him she felt the need to defend her actions in case he thought her grip on logic was slipping. "The books all say that I should begin feeling movement soon."

She tried to make it sound conversational, but the barely restrained excitement in her voice made him smile. "What about me? When will I be able to feel it?"

"Probably not until the third trimester," she confessed with an apologetic look.

That was still at least another two months away. He tried not to let her see his disappointment. "So, do they know what it is yet?" he asked. He was looking forward to being able to tell Parker whether he was going to have a brother or a sister.

"You mean the gender? I didn't ask," she admitted, and he couldn't help feeling touched when she explained, "I thought you would want to be there. But if you'd like, we can find out next month. I'll be in my twentieth week then so provided that the foetus is in the right position, they should be able to tell with some degree of accuracy."

"So is that all I missed?"

She considered this for a moment before announcing casually, "I'm no longer prohibited from engaging in sexual intercourse."

His throat went dry and he swallowed. Hard. "That's great," he croaked, not sure what else to say to that.

"I have to admit, I'm relieved," she agreed. "Now that my morning sickness has passed, I find that I am in a constant state of arousal."

Why did she have to go and say things like that? Was she trying to give him a heart attack? "But you're not gonna do anything about it, are you?" he insisted, even though he knew that it was really none of his business.

"I'm still considering my options," she said noncommittally, which as far as he was concerned meant that she was at least thinking about it.

"So, what, you're gonna call one of your loser ex-boyfriends?" he pressed. "Don't you think he'll be a little weirded out when he sees that you're pregnant?" He wished he could see the look on any one of their faces when she told them whose child it was.

"Not everyone is as puritanical about sex as you are, Booth," she argued. "There are men who find pregnancy very erotic."

"How do you know that I don't?" he challenged her. He happened to find it _very_ erotic. Especially on her.

She stilled so that if it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of her chest, he couldn't even be sure that she was still breathing. He wondered if she was as turned on as he was right now. From what she'd just said, it didn't take much these days. "Have you ever had sex with a pregnant woman, Booth?" she asked, watching him intently from across the desk.

"No," he admitted. At least not one who was noticeably pregnant. Rebecca had broken up with him long before she started showing."Not exactly."

She got up, circling her desk until she was standing in front of him. "Would you like to?"

Was she _propositioning_ him?"Just so we're clear, are you suggesting that _I_ have sex with you?" he asked in a voice that was slightly higher than the one he was used to, certain that any moment now she was going to laugh and assure him that she was just messing with him. Except she didn't do that, did she? She never said anything she didn't mean.

She flashed him a wicked grin that reminded him of the last time she'd put forward that proposal. "I would be amenable to that idea," she agreed, so close now that he was afraid she might try to jump him right there in her office.

Everything in him screamed for him to say yes. "I'm sorry, Bones, but I can't,"he told her, stepping away from her. He didn't want a one night stand with her because she was feeling "aroused" and he just happened to be there. When they finally took that step, he wanted it to be about him. About them.

He could see that she was unhappy with his answer. "Is it because you no longer find my body appealing?"

He forced his eyes to remain on her face. If she kept this up, she wasn't the only one who was going to need a cold shower. "There's nothing wrong with your body, Bones," he assured her with an uncomfortable laugh. "Trust me." Everything about it was perfect, from her swollen breasts to the gently rounded stomach that housed their unborn child.

"But you're not interested in having sex with me." He knew that she was only stating a fact, but in his mind, it sounded like an accusation.

"It's not that I'm not interested," he told her. He was very, _very _interested. A little too interested. "It's just that I've done the whole 'co-parents with benefits' thing before, with Rebecca, and all it does is complicate an already complicated situation. You understand that, right?"

"Of course," she agreed, though her smile was tense. "There are some people you just can't sleep with."

As loathe was he was to hurt her, part of him wished that she wasn't being so reasonable about his rejection. At least then he would know that she was as regretful as he was.

* * *

He thought that was the end of it, until the next morning when she hung up her cell just before she reached their usual table at the diner.

"Who was that?" he asked as she lowered herself into the chair opposite his.

"Mark." She looked almost smug as she turned to give her order to the waitress.

It took him a moment to place the name and then his eyes narrowed. "The deep-sea welder who can hold his breath for, like, five minutes?" he asked when they were alone again. "I thought he dumped you?"

"He did," she agreed, "but then a few days before the insemination he called to tell me that he was back in town and that he wanted to resume our sexual arrangement."

Her words made him feel as though he'd been sucker punched in the gut. "You said no, though, right?" he asked sharply. His eyes travelled down to her belly. "I mean, that's definitely my kid in there?" He didn't know what he would do if she told him that there was even a chance that it wasn't.

"Of course," she assured him. "I had ceased using birth control by then so sleeping with him would have been unwise."

For some reason, this annoyed him more than it should. "Oh, so you'll sleep with him but you don't want a kid with him?" he complained.

"Are you saying that you only have sex with women you want to have a child with?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes!"he insisted.

"Does that mean you wanted a child with Cam?"

He realised then that he'd walked right into that one. Part of him wondered if she'd been setting up the whole time so that she could win the argument. "No. I don't know." Cam was the exception. He loved her dearly but he'd never been in love with her. Not the way he was with Rebecca, and certainly not like he was with Brennan. "When did this become about me?" He took a deep breath, trying to curb his anger. "So you're really going on a date with this guy?"

"It's not a date, Booth," she corrected him. "It's just sex."

"What happened to your rule about not letting strange men into the place where your kid lives?" he reminded her.

"Technically, our child doesn't live at my apartment yet," she pointed out.

"I wasn't talking about your apartment, Bones," he told her with a meaningful look.

Her eyes widened slightly at the innuendo."Sex during pregnancy is perfectly safe, Booth. It won't harm the foetus if that's what you're concerned about. In fact, the rush of endorphins—"

"No." He couldn't listen to any more. This whole thing was just… wrong. "You are not having sex with _Mark_. Not with my kid in the room."

Before she could stop him, he snatched her cell off the table and hit the 'Call Back' button."Hi, is that Mark?" he asked when a male voice answered.

"_Who is this?__ Why do you have Temperance's phone?" _

Booth ignored him, his eyes locked on Brennan, who was staring at him in a mixture of shock and confusion."Listen, she's not gonna be able to make it tonight, or any other night for the next, I don't know, nine months." He was aware that he was making a complete ass of himself, but just the thought of another man touching her, experiencing her like that, especially while she was carrying _his_ child…

"_Is she there? Can I talk to her?"_

"She's busy gestating at the moment," he retorted, still looking at Brennan.

"_What?"_

"Oh, so she didn't tell you she was pregnant?" It was his turn to be smug.

"_Temperance is pregnant?__ Who's the father?"_

"That's what I thought. Goodbye, _Mark_." He hung up on him before he could ask to speak to her again, tossing the phone back to her with a superior look.

"You had no right to do that," she told him, clutching it tightly in both hands, her eyes flashing with indignation now that she'd recovered from her surprise."You can't say you don't want me, and then..." She was dangerously close to tears.

The smirk fell from his face. "I never said that," he told her. Hecouldn't imagine ever uttering those words to her. Of course he wanted her. He'd _always_ wanted her. Right from the moment he first laid eyes on her. Why couldn't she see that?

"Yes, you did," she insisted, brushing the tears away furiously with the heel of her palm.

"When? When did I say that, Bones?"

"Yesterday, in my office," she reminded him quietly. "You said sleeping with me would complicate an already complicated situation."

He could hear the hurt in her voice. Maybe she wasn't so reasonable after all."Yeah, well, I've changed my mind," he insisted, causing her to gasp softly. "Let's do it." It was a risky move, one that could destroy everything that he'd worked so hard to build with her, but he didn't know how else to break the stalemate between them. If she wouldn't let him tell her how he felt, what she meant to him, then maybe he could show her.

Her eyes were suddenly fearful. "You mean have sex?" she asked timidly.

"Sure. Why not? We're having a kid together. It's only natural that we should do it at least once. I mean, it's just sex, right?"

"Exactly," she agreed, not seeming to pick up on his sarcasm as usual, but she didn't sound so convinced now. "I'll be home all night if you want to come by later. Say around eight?"

"Not so fast, Bones." He wasn't going to let her call the shots this time. "I don't know how you did it with_ Mark, _but usually when you make a booty call, you don't get to dictate the terms. That's up to the callee, which in this case, would be me."

"So I should come to your place?" she asked uncertainly. "What time?"

He gave her his best 'Cocky' grin. "Why don't we make it seven?"

* * *

_What is Booth planning? And how will Brennan react? ;)_


	17. Chapter 17

_Thanks for the reviews. I thought it was about time I put you all out of your misery!_

_(For some reason the site keeps deleting spaces and even whole words and sentences so if you notice anything like that, that's probably why. I try to fix it where I can but just in case I miss any. ;))_

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Chapter 17.

Booth was putting the final touches on the evening when he heard a knock at the door. He checked his watch. 6:55pm. His partner was nothing if not punctual.

When he opened the door, he was relieved, and maybe even a little surprised, to see her standing out in the hall. Until that moment, he wasn't sure that she would actually show up.

He helped her out of her jacket, pausing to admire the stretchy white top that knotted over her hip, hugging her curves in all the right places. She had completed the outfit with a pair of dark, fitted jeans. "You look nice. Is that a new shirt?" She'd never worn it before; at least not while he was around. If she had, he would have noticed.

She glanced down at herself as if she wasn't sure what he was talking about. "Yes. My old clothes were becoming restrictive."

"It looks good on you," he told her, wondering if he was overdoing it with the compliments. He didn't want to scare her away. "Did you eat yet?"

"No," she admitted with a guilty expression. "I was at the lab until six. I only had enough time to shower and change."

For once, he was glad that she was stubborn and rarely listened to him. "Great_." _He took hold of her shoulders, gently steering her towards the couch. "Sit down, make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be about five minutes."

She sat down obediently while he ducked back into the kitchen to check on the vegetable bake in the oven. It wasn't his usual fare, but he wanted to make something that she would eat.

"You didn't have to go to all that trouble for me, Booth," she called from the living room. "We could have just ordered in like we usually do."

"I like cooking for you, Bones," he assured her, returning with a pair of wine glasses. He held out his left hand, offering one to her. "Here."

She glanced from the sparkling substance in the glass, back up to him in bewilderment."But I'm pregnant," she reminded him as though she thought he might have forgotten.

"Which is why we'll just have to pretend that this is wine," he agreed. He waited until she took hers to ease himself down into the space beside her.

"You're not drinking?" she asked, surprised.

"I'm not gonna sit here and drink in front of you, Bones," he told her, even though he could do with some liquid courage right now. He couldn't remember the last time he was this nervous around a woman. But she wasn't just any woman: she was Temperance Brennan, his partner, friend, and very likely, the love of his life. And she wanted him, or his body at least. "Cheers." He raised his glass and she clinked hers against it.

They followed this up by taking a sip of their drinks, neither of them speaking until the timer rang.

"You should get that," she said, sounding relieved.

Saved by the bell, he thought. "Don't want it to burn," he agreed, setting his glass on the coffee table and climbing to his feet.

"Do need any help?" she asked, getting up too.

"No, I got it," he assured her. "You just relax."

She sat back down as he headed into the kitchen, where he took the dish from the oven and placed it on top of the stove. If he craned his neck, he could still see her from here. He watched her fidget with the stem of her glass, her back ramrod straight, her head bowed, taking up as little space as possible. She was clearly uncomfortable. Not for the first time, he wondered if he'd done the right thing.

After a moment, she stood up again and he tensed, afraid that she was leaving, but when he emerged from the kitchen, he saw that she had just moved herself over to the table, taking her place adjacent to him.

"It smells good," she told him with a small smile as she reached over to serve herself.

"Yeah, well, you're pregnant. Everything smells good to you," he teased her.

She flashed him the first genuine grin of the evening. "Actually, that's not true," she told him, spearing a piece of broccoli with her fork. "Right now that cologne that you're wearing doesn't smell good to me."

He raised his arm, giving himself an experimental sniff."It is a little strong," he agreed. "Maybe I should shower again." He moved to get up but she put a hand on his arm, pushing him back into his chair.

"No, Booth, you're fine. It's my olfactory senses that are the problem."

"Are you sure? I don't wanna make you sick again."

She nodded."I like your cologne."

"But the baby doesn't?" he supplied, causing her to frown.

"I don't think the foetus has an opinion, Booth."

He should have known that she was too literal for that. "So what were you doing at the lab until six if we already got our guy?"he asked, curious about how she spent her time now that she'd cut back her involvement in his investigations.

She perked up at the mention of her work, setting down her cutlery and wiping her mouth with her napkin. "Wendell and I were working on identifying the remains of what appears to be a pre-colonial Native American," she explained. "It's very interesting. While I will admit that I miss going out to crime scenes with you, this forced suspension from field duty has allowed me to return to my metaphorical roots."

He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. "But you're coming back into the field after you have the baby, right? This is just temporary?"

She averted her eyes to the tablecloth, toying with her fork. "I've been thinking a lot about it and since I started working on cases with you I've been shot, blown up, kidnapped – _twice_ – and almost eaten by dogs. I know what we do is important, but I… I don't want my child to go through what I went through. It deserves to have at least one parent who's not in danger all the time."

He realised then that she was right. It wasn't about them. "You think I should retire too?" He was getting a little old for field duty anyway.

She shook her head. "Solving murders, catching bad guys… That's who you are, Booth. It's just not who I am. Not anymore." She lifted her head to gauge his response. "You're not upset with me, are you?"

As disappointed as he was at the thought of dissolving their partnership, he could never be upset with her for putting their child first. "No, I'm proud of you, Bones. You're finally getting what it means to be a parent."

"Well I have a pretty good teacher," she told him with a warm smile.

"It's not like we won't still see each other all the time," he continued. "We're having a baby together."

"Exactly," she agreed.

Everything was so familiar – them, sharing a meal, talking about their lives, just like they'd been doing for years – that he almost managed to forget about their pact. Almost.

"So what happens now?" she asked once he'd cleared the table.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you still want to have sex."

"Isn't that why you invited me over?"

"Just making sure you're sure. Once we open that door…"

Her brow furrowed in suspicion. "You sound like you're trying to talk me out of it."

Maybe he was a little. He just didn't want them to wake up in the morning and realise that it was a mistake. "I'm not." He wasn't going to let her call _Mark_ again, or whoever else was on her list.

"Good. Then let's get it over with," she insisted, turning on her heel and striding purposefully towards the bedroom.

"Well, when you put it like _that_…" he teased her, trailing after her.

She stopped when she spotted the candles on the dresser, staring at them as if she'd never seen anything like them before. "What are all the candles for?" she asked nervously.

"Mood lighting," he explained. "After five years, I thought we deserved a little romance."

It was clear from her expression that she didn't agree, or if she did, she wasn't saying. "Somehow I always imagined you having sex in the dark," she told him,sitting down on the bed. She seemed strangely incongruous there despite the fact that he'd been dreaming about this moment for years. Granted, things were a little less awkward in his fantasies.

He considered asking her if she'd spent a lot of time imagining him having sex, but then thought better of it. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel self-conscious. "You know, Bones, just because I don't like to talk about sex, doesn't mean I'm a prude." He was looking forward to debunking that particular myth.

"Maybe not, but you're obviously very traditional."

Coming from her, he wasn't sure if that was an insult or a compliment. He decided that it was probably a bit of both. "Would it make you more comfortable if it was dark?" he asked, in case that was what she was hinting at.

"No, this is fine," she assured him, looking around at the décor as if it were part of one of the exhibits in her museum.

He didn't know what to do with himself so he sat down on the edge of the mattress beside her. "At least we don't have to worry about you getting pregnant," he joked lamely. What was it about her that made him feel like a virgin on prom night? Not that he'd waited until prom…

"That would be scientifically impossible," she agreed. Then, in case he wanted to know but was too afraid to ask,"I don't have any diseases."

"I wasn't worried," he told her. He doubted that she would anyway – she was too smart for that – but he assumed that she'd been tested, like he had, before getting pregnant. "You already know that I don't." He guessed that was it then: no need to bother with the condoms stashed away in the top drawer of his dresser.

He cleared his throat. "So what's the, um, protocol here?" he asked, all too aware of the minefield they were about to step into. "Should we both start getting undressed?" He couldn't believe that they were actually going to go through with it. He was sure that she would have baulked by now.

"I'll go first," she offered, untying the knot on her shirt with trembling hands. She slid it off her shoulders to reveal the lacy black bra underneath, and below that, miles of creamy white skin.

"Wow," he breathed, unable to take his eyes off the gentle swell of her stomach. He'd seen it before, at the doctor's office, but not like this. "Is it okay if I…?"

She nodded, leaning back on her hands to support herself while he reached out, cupping her belly in both palms. He was shocked at how firm it is, like a shell, protecting their child from harm. He ran his thumb over the smooth skin, causing her to shiver slightly."That's our baby, Bones," he whispered, looking back up at her with a smile. Intellectually, he knew that she was pregnant, but somehow he hasn't really believed it until now. He certainly hadn't expected to feel this moved.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her then, but he didn't know how receptive she would be to hearing those words yet so he raised his hands to her jaw, cradling her face as he placed a delicate kiss on her mouth. Her body went rigid under his touch, and he almost pulled away, but then he felt the pressure on his own mouth increase as she finally accepted the kiss, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, urging him to take it off too.

That was all he needed. He complied with her request, letting it fall to the bed with hers. He watched as she drank in the sight of his bare chest, carefully tracing the scar where he took a bullet for her before pulling him back in for a fierce kiss, as though she was afraid that he might be taken from her again at any moment.

She broke the kiss just long enough to wriggle out of her jeans, kicking them to the floor. His pants were next, until they were both left in just their underwear. He lifted her onto his lap, skin to skin with her now, the soft protrusion of her belly pressing into his, reminding him to be careful to keep his weight off of her as he flipped them over so that he was suspended above her. He kissed his way down her throat, to the crook of her neck, enjoying the feel of her hands roaming over his shoulder blades – scapula, he vaguely remembered hearing her call them – grazing the muscles of his back before finally settling on his waist, where she gripped him tightly, clinging to him for dear life.

A gasp escaped her lips as he sucked lightly on her pulse point; he grinned at his prowess until, lifting his face back to hers to steal another kiss, he noticed the fresh tear tracks staining her flushed cheeks.

"Bones, are you crying?" he asked, snapping back to reality as he tried to figure out what he'd done to bring out that reaction in her. He never wanted to be the kind of man who put his own pleasure ahead of the woman he was with; maybe he should have slowed down, allowed her time to adjust to the newfound intimacy between them, but it wasn't as though she'd given him any reason to think that she didn't like what he was doing. "Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head where it rested on his pillow."I thought I could but I can't," she sobbed. "It's too much."

He moved off of her, propping himself on his elbow beside her. "What's too much?" he pressed, confused by his partner's contradictory behaviour. Yesterday in her office, she practically begged him to sleep with her, but now that he'd agreed to do just that, she was acting like he'd forced himself on her.

"You. Me. The baby. All of it." She rolled onto her side, creating a wall with her back, but he could tell by the steady jerk of her shoulders that she was still crying.

It took him a moment to process her words and then he had to resist the urge to say 'I told you so'. Now you see, he thought to himself. There was no such thing as '_just_ sex'. Not for them anyway. "It's okay," he told her, laying a comforting hand on her spine_._ "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

He waited for her to leave his bed and get dressed, wondering if he should at least offer to drive her home, but to his surprise, she turned back to face him, shifting over until her head was tucked under his chin. She seemed to want him to hold her even if she couldn't vocalise it, so he wrapped his arms around her, bringing her in closer so that she was lying against him with their baby nestled in the space between them.

"Would you mind if we just sleep tonight?"she asked softly.

Eventually they were going to have a conversation about what just happened, but right now, he was content just having her there in his arms. To answer her question, he leant over and blew out the candles. Then he pulled the comforter around them and closed his eyes, following her into sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

_Thanks for the reviews. I apologise for leaving you hanging - I'm working two jobs in addition to taking four classes (one of which requires me to do an internship) this semester so my life is a constant juggling act!  
_

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Chapter 18.

As he began to come to, the first thing Booth noticed was the loss of Brennan's warm, reassuring weight against him. He cracked his eyes open, hoping to discover that she'd rolled away from him during the night in an attempt to get more comfortable, but it soon became apparent that he was alone.

He fought back a surge of panic as he pulled a t-shirt over his boxers and went in search of her. She had a human being the size of an onion sitting on top of her bladder; maybe she just got up to use the bathroom.

Or maybe she wanted to pretend that none of it ever happened, a little voice in the back of his mind insisted. It wouldn't be the first time that she'd pushed him away and he doubted that it would be the last.

By the time he reached the living room, he was so sure that she'd slipped out while he was asleep that he was stunned to see her sitting, fully-dressed – down to her jacket and shoes – in an armchair, apparently waiting for him.

"I thought you would've left by now," he confessed, feeling guilty at how quickly he'd written her off. He should have known that she wasn't that heartless. At the very least, she was still his partner.

"I was going to," she agreed, confirming his fears. "I tried, but this is as far as I made it."

As hard as it was to hear, he couldn't really be hurt knowing that she'd realised what a mistake that would have been. "Well, I'm glad, because you and me, we need to talk," he told her, sitting down on the couch adjacent to her.

He could see the alarm in her expression. "Why?"

"Why? Because we almost had sex last night, Bones," he reminded her gently.

"But we didn't."

Only because her tears had put a stop to it. "No, what we did was more intimate than that."

"You mean spending the night together?" she asked in a slightly dubious tone.

"In my arms. You spent the night in my arms, Bones," he corrected her. "You don't think that means something?" Anyone could have sex, but the sense of completion that he felt at just the touch of her skin… He'd never experienced anything like it before.

Not that she was going to give him a chance to tell her that. "It doesn't mean what you think it means. What you want it to mean. It doesn't mean that I've changed my mind about love or that I suddenly want to get married," she protested.

Talk about jumping the gun. She'd jumped the whole freakin' armoury."Whoa, who said anything about marriage? I just wanna talk," he assured her.

"About us," she insisted, her voice rising in agitation. "You think that because your sperm fertilised my ovum that means that we should be together."

"And you're gonna tell me that that's exactly why we shouldn't," he realised. It might have been a reasonable argument if it had happened by chance, but it hadn't. She _chose_ him.

"We are not compatible, Booth. We don't want the same things. You want a wife – someone who will marry you and bear you more children – and I can't give you that. I've never been in a committed monogamous relationship before. I'm not even sure that I know how."

For a woman who hated assumptions, she sure made a lot of them, especially when it came to him. "You don't know what the future holds, Bones. People change. You're already changing. When we first met, you told me you never wanted to have a kid and look at you now. I've never seen you as happy about anything as you are about this baby. What makes you think you won't ever want to get married?"

"You're comparing apples and mandarins."

"Apples and _oranges_, Bones, and how is this any different to that?"

She took a deep breath to steady herself. "Before becoming pregnant, I made what I considered to be a rational decision based on a number of factors, including my age and fertility level and my ability to provide for a child financially."

"So what you're saying is, given that you're over thirty and you're loaded, having a kid seemed like the logical thing to do?" he translated. He hated hearing her talk about the baby like that – like it was another rare artefact that she'd acquired just because she could afford it – when he knew that it meant so much more to her than that.

"Yes."

"So it was logical to use my stuff instead of some anonymous donor's?"

"Yes! We've been through this, Booth. I chose you because you have traits that I believed would benefit my child."

"It had nothing to do with you maybe having feelings for me?" he insisted, refusing to let it go.

She made a face. "Why would I ask you to be my sperm donor if I had feelings for you?" she argued, stressing the word 'donor'.

"Right, because that wouldn't be logical," he retorted, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. "Is that why you couldn't have sex with me last night? Because it wasn't logical?"

He knew that he'd hit the nail right on the head when she stiffened, her eyes growing wide with shock. "I have to go," she told him in a clipped tone, struggling to regain her composure as she pushed herself up from her chair.

He couldn't let her leave yet. "Not until you agree that this is something we need to discuss," he insisted, intercepting her before she reached the foyer.

"I'm going to be late for work," she complained, shaking him off as she sidestepped him with the expert grace of someone who was used to playing offense.

"Promise me you'll at least think about what I said?" he called helplessly as she closed the door behind her without another word.

* * *

When by lunchtime, she still hadn't answered any of his calls, he decided to pay her a visit.

He could see through the glass wall of her office as he approached, to where she sitting alone at the conference table, hunched over her laptop, typing away furiously at what he guessed, from the journals surrounding her, must be some kind of research paper.

She didn't seem to know that he was there so he just stood there watching her for a moments, wondering what on Earth he was going to say to her when he finally worked up the courage to go in. She'd made it clear that she didn't want to talk to him; at least not about anything that required her to examine whatever confusing feelings she was having right now.

"What did I tell you about pushing?" Angela's voice admonished him from behind.

He turned to face her when he realised that he'd been caught. "She told you what happened," he said, not so much a question as a statement of fact.

"Only that you two had some kind of disagreement."

He wasn't sure that that was the right word for it. For them to disagree, she would have actually had to have engaged. "She didn't say what it was about?" he pressed, hoping that her best friend might have some kind of insight into what was going on inside that brilliant mind of hers.

"She was typically vague," Angela told him in a long-suffering tone.

It made him feel slightly better to know that it wasn't just him. "Something happened last night," he confessed.

The artist arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. "Honey, if you want my advice, you're gonna have to do better than that."

He decided that he might as well go ahead and tell her the whole story. She would probably hear it from Brennan eventually. "We kissed. Well, actually, it was more like second base. It would've gone further but she had some kind of meltdown. One minute she's fine, the next she's crying and she won't tell me why." It was a relief to get it all off his chest.

"No wonder she's been acting weird today," Angela said once she'd had time to digest this.

"Weird?"

"As in moodier than usual. I'm surprised Wendell's head is still attached to his shoulders. I figured it was just the hormones, you know?"

He returned his attention to Brennan as she flipped through one of the journals, scanning the page before keying something into her computer. She looked so calm on the surface, conscientiously going about her work, but he knew that it was just a front to cover up whatever was really eating away at her.

"I should go talk to her," he announced, moving towards the open door, but he found himself walking straight into Angela's outstretched arm.

"Or, here's a thought, you could let her come to you."

Who knew when that would be? "Our kid will've graduated college by then."

Angela's expression was sympathetic. "I know this is difficult for you because, well, you're a man, and you like to be able to control everything, but Brennan isn't like other women. You can't win her over with some big romantic gesture. Isn't that what got you into trouble with Rebecca?"

"I'm not gonna propose!" he ground out, wishing that people would stop bringing up what was definitely one of the most humiliating, soul-crushing experiences of his life.

"No, but you look like you're gonna propose _something_."

As much as he wanted to argue with her, in the back of his mind, he knew that every word she'd said was true. He'd blindsided his partner by turning what was supposed to be a meaningless sexual encounter into a date when he should have just been honest with her about how he felt and what he wanted from the beginning.

* * *

In the end, he decided not to force another conversation between them, and instead, to let her seek him out when she was ready; he figured that it would take her at least a few days to notice his voluntary withdrawal from her life, so he was surprised when she showed up at his door later that night.

"Bones? What're you doing here?" he greeted her, squinting at her through the crack. "You should be in bed." It was nearly one a.m. He'd been asleep himself until he was roused by her knock.

"I couldn't sleep. Can I come in?" she asked shyly.

"Sure," he agreed, opening the door the rest of the way and stepping aside to let her through. "Everything's okay, right? You're fine? Baby's fine?" He figured that she would have called him if it wasn't, but he wanted to make sure. Whatever else was going on between them, it was still his kid.

"Are you avoiding me?" she blurted out, brushing aside his question in favour of getting straight down to what she'd come there to say. "Usually you stop by to ask me that."

"And you tell me I'm being smothering. I was just trying to give you some space."

"You're mad at me," she observed, studying his expression carefully.

"I'm not mad at you, Bones," he insisted. "I'm just… confused."

"Because of what happened last night?"

"Well, yeah, and because you won't talk about it," he admitted.

She was silent for a moment and then she announced, "Mark called me today."

That was definitely not the response he was expecting. "You're kidding?" The guy deserved a medal for persistence. "What for?" he pressed carefully, wondering if this was some kind of ploy to make him jealous.

"Just to talk. He asked if I was free for dinner this week."

And? his mind screamed. What did you say? Surely she wasn't still planning on having sex with him? Just the thought of her with him – or any other guy – made him feel like a failure. She'd given him a shot and in one night he'd managed to blow it.

"I told him that I no longer wished to continue our arrangement," she confessed when it became clear that he wasn't going to press her for details, her penetrating blue eyes locking on his.

He tried not to believe that it had anything to do with him or what had transpired between them the night before. "What about your, you know, _situation_?" he asked, muttering last word, even though they were alone.

She seemed to have prepared herself for this question. "There are other methods of achieving sexual release."

He decided that he wasn't even going to consider what she might mean by that. "You're not gonna ask me to try again?" he asked, torn between relief and disappointment.

"While sex with you would no doubt be pleasurable, I understand now why you said there are some people you shouldn't sleep with," she explained, still watching him intently. "Figuratively, of course, because we did, in fact, sleep together."

This last part was so wonderfully Bones-ish that they made him smile for the first time all day. "Does that mean you and me are still good?"

"Grammatically, that question makes absolutely no sense, Booth," she laughed.

"It's an expression, Bones," he told her seriously. "It means, is everything okay between us?" He couldn't bear the thought of losing her from his life after she'd finally accepted him as the father of her child.

"Then yes, you and I are good," she agreed, the corners of her lips curling into a tentative smile of her own.

He could still remember how they tasted, what they felt like on his; if they were a real couple, he would have sealed the deal by kissing her then, but they weren't, so he forced himself to tear his eyes away from her mouth, letting his hand drop to the small of her back instead.

"C'mon, I'll drive you home," he told her, scooping his car keys up off the hall table, glad that he'd had the presence of mind to get dressed before answering the door.

"What if I told you I didn't want to go home?" she asked him with uncharacteristic boldness. "What if I said I wanted to stay?"

He felt his breath hitch in his throat at her words. "You mean spend the night? Bones…" He paused to collect himself. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why not?"

He wasn't sure how she could still be that clueless. "Did you hear a word I said this morning?"

"I hear every word you say, Booth," she agreed innocently.

"Then you should know why I'm not comfortable with this," he insisted, wondering, not for the first time, if she understood more than she let on.

But she wasn't giving up. "Even on a quiet night like this, it takes approximately twenty-three minutes to drive across town to my apartment – forty-six for a round trip. That's without counting the walk to and from the Sequoia, which I estimate would add an additional five minutes each way. Longer if you decided to come in. If we accept the statistic that it takes the average adult approximately seven minutes to fall asleep, then that's between thirty-five and sixty-three minutes of sleep that we would each lose… _if_ you were to drive me home," she finished with a meaningful look.

"Wow," he breathed, caught off guard once again by her uncanny ability to make even the most unreasonable request seem reasonable. Wasn't that how he'd managed to get himself into this mess with her in the first place? "So what you're saying is…?"

"Based on the facts, it appears that the most practical solution is for me to spend the night here with you."

He couldn't argue with logic like that, and even if he tried, he knew that she would still be one step ahead. "Fine," he agreed. "You can have my room. I'll make up the couch. Unless you wanna do some more math to explain why I shouldn't?" he asked hopefully.

"I don't need math, just common sense. You have a bad back. It's illogical for you to sleep on the couch when the bed is big enough for both of us."

He conceded to her argument against his better judgement, joining her in the bedroom, where she shrugged out of her coat before sitting down on the edge of the mattress to take off her shoes.

"What're you doing?" he asked nervously as she started on her blouse. He hadn't realised that they were going to be naked or else he would have put his foot down.

"I can't sleep in my clothes, Booth. They'll get wrinkled."

The t-shirt he'd worn that morning was still on the bed. "Here," he said, tossing it to her. "Wear this."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she caught it, and for a brief moment, he was afraid that he'd insulted her, but she pulled it on over her silky white underwear without speaking.

He breathed a sign of relief once she was covered up. Well, mostly. The shirt did nothing to hide the view of her long legs, perfectly toned from years of running. "Which side do you want?" he asked her, his voice coming out gruffer than he intended. She had no idea what she was doing to him. That or she did and she was torturing him on purpose.

"Left."

He moved around to the right, slipping under the covers while she did the same on the other side.

Once both they were both settled, he turned out the light and lay on his back with his eyes closed, but he couldn't go back to sleep knowing that she was there, less than two feet away. What made it even harder to relax was the fact that she kept changing positions, reminding him of her presence with each movement.

"Bones, you need to stop that or neither of us is gonna get any sleep," he complained when she turned over for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Sorry. Since the top of my uterus ascended above my iliac crest it has become increasingly difficult for me to find a favourable position to sleep in."

He felt his heart soften towards her at her words. He couldn't imagine what she must be going through, and it was only going to get worse from here. "You know, you could just say you're uncomfortable because you're pregnant."

He pulled the spare pillow from behind his head. "Sit up for a second," he coaxed her.

She did, watching with a quizzical look as he reached across her, positioning the pillow near the edge of the mattress.

"There, now lie back down." She did as instructed and he helped her adjust it so that it was supporting her belly. "Better?"

"Much," she agreed with a smile. "Thank you."

He still had one arm over her; on impulse, he let it fall lightly against her waist, testing the waters. When she didn't object, he lay back down on his side next to her, so close that he could feel the heat emanating from her body. He waited for her to redraw the boundaries by pulling away, but instead, she responded by scooting backwards until her back was flush against his chest.

Taking this as a sign that she needed him as badly as he needed her, he wrapped his arms tighter around her, burying his face in the soft skin of her shoulder, exposed where the collar of his t-shirt had slipped down. She smelled incredible, feminine and clean, like vanilla, with just a hint of something more exotic.

He still remembered how vehemently she'd rejected his hypothesis that two objects could occupy the same space. It wasn't exactly how he'd pictured breaking the laws of physics with her, but as she laced her fingers gently through his, guiding his hand to the place where their unborn child grew, he realised that it came pretty close.


	19. Chapter 19

_Thanks for the reviews. I apologise again for the delay - I got sick for the second time in less than a month and that sort of set back everything. All of my free time went to finishing assignments which meant that I didn't have much left to write. :( The good news is that it's only for a few more weeks and then hopefully I will be able to work on completing this over the hiatus.  
_

* * *

Chapter 19.

When Booth woke the next morning, Brennan was still asleep beside him, only now they were face to face, her head just inches from his on the pillow. He'd never been this close to her without her knowledge before; he took advantage of the opportunity to study her, noting the subtle change in her expression as she slept. She was less guarded, like the scientist that she presented to the world, more like the innocent young girl that he'd come to know during the five years of their partnership, the girl who had been hurt so badly by her parents' disappearance that she was afraid to let anyone in, even him. His one wish for her now was that she would become more open to the idea once the baby arrived and she saw how much joy loving someone could bring.

At the thought of his unborn child, he rolled onto his stomach, aligning himself so that his face was level with her belly. "Hi, baby. It's your dad," he whispered, glad that she wasn't awake to tell him how ridiculous he sounded. "I know things aren't exactly perfect right now – for one thing, me and your mom aren't together – but I want you to know that I'm working on it. Thanks for your help, by the way," he added as an afterthought. The baby – or the hormones that came with it – had definitely softened her up for him. She never would have considered showing up at his door in the middle of the night because she didn't want to sleep alone before she'd gotten pregnant.

"Y'know," he continued, "a lot of people think she's cold, and kind of a _witch_—" He wasn't going to say the real word in front of his kid, even if, as his partner would tell him, it was too young to understand him "—but once you get past the squintiness, she's actually pretty great. She gave up field work for you, you know, which may not seem like a big deal, but trust me it is because Mommy loves guns, even if it drives Daddy crazy sometimes. She just loves you more."

Almost as if she sensed that he was talking about her, Brennan stirred, groaning softly.

Any second now, she was going to wake up. "Don't tell her I said that, okay? She'll try to be all hyper-rational about it and we both know she doesn't mean it." He paused as if he were waiting for the baby to answer. "Okay," he finished, patting her belly, just as she opened her eyes.

"Booth? What are you doing?" she asked groggily.

At least she didn't seem unsettled by the fact that they were in bed together. That was progress. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm talking to my kid. And don't tell me he can't hear me," he rushed on when she opened her mouth to speak, turning back over onto his back, "because the baby book says that he can."

"I wasn't going to," she assured him, struggling to sit up. She was silent for a moment, leaning back against the headboard, and then she offered, "I have also begun speaking to the foetus."

"You talk to the baby?" he repeated, sitting up beside her. She had been so clinical about her pregnancy from the beginning that he never ceased to be amazed when he caught her doing something that reminded him that she was just like any other mom-to-be.

"Studies have proven that reactive listening begins as early as sixteen weeks gestation," she explained, "even though structurally, a foetus's ears aren't fully developed until closer to twenty-four weeks."

"Reactive listening, huh?" He leant over her so that his next words were directed at the baby. "If you're listening in there, how about you give Mommy a little kick to show that you can hear me?"

"It doesn't work like that, Booth," she laughed. "All it hears are sounds. It doesn't know what you're saying."

"What do you say? When you talk to the baby?" he asked her seriously.

"Mostly I just share my cognitive processes," she admitted.

"You mean you tell it whatever's on your mind?" He wondered if she ever talked to the baby about him, and what she would say to it if she did.

"Even though he or she is incapable of responding, I find it comforting to know that I am not alone," she agreed, not quite looking at him as she picked at a loose thread on the sheet.

"You're not alone, Bones," he assured her. "Not anymore. I'm here. I'll always be here."

"You say that now, Booth," she argued, "but you can't predict how you're going to feel a year from now – ten years from now. What if you meet someone? Someone who does want to get married?"

"I won't." How could he with her around? Especially when he knew that while he was off playing the field, she was at home alone caring for _his_ child?

"You might," she insisted stubbornly.

"Then you'll still be the mother of my kid," he reminded her. That meant that he would always be in her life.

"Rebecca is Parker's mother and you can't stand to be in the same room as her most of the time," she pointed out.

"That's because things ended badly between us."

"Exactly," she agreed. "I don't want that to happen to us, Booth. Arguing all the time, using our child to hurt each other… I need you," she told him softly. "You're not just my partner – you're my best friend."

"I thought Angela was your best friend?" He'd always figured that he was second, at best.

"Angela says that she and I are 'girlfriends', so following that logic, she is my best _girl_friend. You are my best friend."

Which was all the more reason for them to be together, he wanted to tell her. People talked about getting to spend the rest of their lives with their best friend, but how many actually did?

Don't push, he reminded himself, thinking back to Angela's warning. If he pushed her too hard now, all he would succeed in doing was pushing her right out the door. At least she wasn't planning to date again any time soon. That, at least, was a weight off his mind. Now all he had to do was be patient.

"You know what? I'm starved," he told her, keeping his tone light as he threw off the covers and swung his feet onto the floor. "What d'you say I buy the two of you breakfast? We can stop by your place on the way."

* * *

"Would you like to come up?" Brennan asked that evening when he pulled into the visitor's space outside of her apartment. "We could order in."

He tried to think of an excuse to spare her feelings, but Rebecca had Parker for the weekend and it wasn't like he had an active social life outside of the people that he worked with.

"Please?" she insisted after a moment. "I don't think I can stand to be alone tonight."

Their latest case involved the bones of two-year-old child. A girl, according to Brennan, who had probably been beaten and mistreated for most of her brutally short life before her abusers finally went too far and killed her. Those were always the hardest; harder still when you were a parent, or in her case, a parent-to-be.

"How could someone do this?" she had asked him with tears in her eyes as she pointed out layers of old rib fractures that were most likely caused by shaking, "She was so little," and he knew that she was thinking of her own child and how she could never hurt it like that.

"Sure," he agreed, switching off the engine, even though he was pretty sure how the night was going to end. He knew that he shouldn't be encouraging her, leading her on by letting her think that sharing that kind of intimacy without a commitment was okay with him, but he could never seem to help himself when she looked at him with those sad blue eyes. He only hoped that their baby didn't inherit them, or else he was doomed.

Once they reached the apartment, he waited for her in the living room while she went to change out of her work clothes, amusing himself by examining the artefacts that she'd brought back from her various travels.

"Y'know, now that you have a baby coming, you really should think about getting rid of these knives," he told her when she finally reappeared. She still had a long way to go before her apartment was baby proof. The _museum_ was safer for a kid than this place. At least there things were in glass cases.

"I like them," she insisted.

"So will the baby," he told her, shooting her a pointed look as he picked up what appeared to be some kind of ceremonial dagger. He pressed his finger against the tip to test it. Whatever it was, it was very sharp. "Maybe we can put them in your office until he gets older."

"Our child won't be mobile for at least the first six months of his or her life," she reminded him, plucking the blade from his hands and returning it to its stand on the shelf. "I don't see why we have to change everything now."

Something in her tone made him suspect that she was talking about more than interior decorating. "You do realise that you're having a baby, Bones? A _baby_. That means that a lot of things are going to change."

"I just didn't think that it would be this much," she confessed. "I can't fit into any of my own clothes, I'm tired and hungry and distracted all of the time… Yesterday I got an email requesting my services on a dig in the Philippines next Spring and I realised that I can't go because I'll have a newborn then. I feel like I don't know who I am anymore."

"Hey, that's just the hormones talking." She was already overemotional from spending the day elbow deep in the remains of a child. He was actually surprised that she'd agreed to work the case with him once she'd learned who the victim was. Clearly, she wasn't compartmentalising her feelings very well.

"That's just it!" she cried. "I _never_ let chemical processes control me. I'm far too rational for that."

"That was before you got pregnant and turned into a walking oestrogen factory," he told her gently.

He didn't really know what else to say, having never actually been pregnant himself, so he just held out his arms. "Come here."

She hesitated for a moment, and then stepped into them, allowing him to fold her into an embrace. "You know what hasn't changed?"

"What?" she asked, lifting her head from his shoulder.

"The Friday night All You Can Eat special at Wong Fu's," he told her with what he hoped was a winning smile, thinking that he might be able to talk her into a movie afterwards. Maybe a night out would do both of them some good.

"Thanks, but I think I'd rather just get it delivered," she told him, pulling away.

He couldn't really blame her for wanting to stay in. It had been a long day.

She got them both drinks and plates while he ordered and when the food arrived, they ate it in their usual place on the couch.

"You okay?" he asked when he caught her wincing as she bent to gather up the empty containers. His mind flashed back to the torturous night that he'd spent with her at the hospital. "You told me everything was fine at your last appointment."

"I seem to be experiencing some discomfort in my lumbar region," she admitted, kneading it gingerly. "There's no need to worry – it's very common at this stage of pregnancy. It's most likely caused by my muscles stretching to accommodate the foetus."

While he was relieved to hear that everything was happening according to plan, it didn't make him feel any better about seeing her in pain. He still had no idea how he was going to endure hours, or even days, of watching her in labour, especially when she was so adamant about natural childbirth. "Y'know, after all the times you fixed my back, the least I can do is help you with yours," he offered.

"The last time I tried to fix your back, I almost broke it," she reminded him, glancing up at him with a guilty expression.

"I remember," he agreed with a smile. He reached for her hand, pulling her gently back onto the couch. "Now how about you turn around and let me do my thing?"

He might not be as skilful as her, but he knew how to give a decent massage.

"How's that? Good?" he asked her after a moment.

She let out a soft moan of agreement. "I'm surprised that you aren't married," she remarked out of the blue. "It's obvious that you would make a very good husband."

He stopped what he was doing, his hands still on her back. "What makes you say that?" he asked.

"Even though you're a typical alpha male, you're romantic, empathetic – you've been very supportive of me during my pregnancy. You love babies and children. You're an excellent father to Parker." The corners of her lips quirked into a smile. "You're also a very good masseuse. Objectively, those qualities make you the ideal mate. Any woman would be lucky to have you."

At least he knew that it wasn't him that she was resisting. "Thanks, Bones," he said, deciding to take it on face value as one of her rare compliments. "Y'know, you're not so bad yourself."

"Oh, I know," she agreed, looking back at him with an impish grin.

He couldn't help but find her cute when she was being immodest. He just wished that she actually believed it herself. "How does your back feel now? Any better?" he asked her, letting go.

She turned herself back around so that they were sitting side by side again. "Yes, although I am still quite tense. Would you mind if I took a bath?"

"Of course not. You go ahead." He picked up the remote, making himself comfortable. "I'm just gonna sit here and enjoy one hundred and fifty inches of full surround sound awesomeness."

She made a face. "Awesomeness is not a word. You've been spending too much time with Sweets."

"Weren't you going to take a bath?" he reminded her pointedly, eager to get rid of her so that he could be alone with the TV. Even when she tried to understand the appeal, she had an annoying habit of talking over the top of it, asking him so many questions that he lost the gist of what was happening.

She got up slowly, making her way to the door. "I believe there is a documentary on in which morbidly obese people complete to see which one can lose the most weight," she offered helpfully. "The winner receives a large cash prize. I heard Cam and Angela discussing it on the platform this morning."

Somehow, he wasn't surprised to learn that Cam was a fan of trash television; even less to discover that his partner didn't seem to have any idea why he was laughing. "You really are one of a kind, Bones."

* * *

He had just settled on a basketball game on ESPN when he heard her call his name. He reached for the remote, lowering the volume so that he could listen. "Booth!" she called again, louder this time.

Within seconds he was on his feet, sprinting towards the sound of her voice. "You better be dressed, Bones, because I'm coming in," he called through the door, charging into the bathroom without waiting for her answer.

He wasn't sure what he expected to find – her sprawled on the tiles, maybe? – but she was still soaking in the bathtub, her damp hair pinned up against the back of her neck, resting her head on the rim.

"What happened?" he demanded, scanning the room with a sniper's eye for detail. "Are you bleeding again?"

"It moved," she told him with the kind of excitement she normally reserved for corpses.

"What moved?" he asked stupidly.

"The foetus. It moved."

It took him a moment to comprehend what she was saying through the fog of adrenaline. "Wait, are you sure?"

She chuckled as something drew her attention back down to her belly, running her hands gently, almost lovingly, over it. "Positive. I have experienced the occasional quickening in the past, but nothing like this. It's very distinct."

Now that his fear had begun to subside, he was all too aware of how naked she was underneath those bubbles. He cleared his throat. "I should go and let you finish your bath," he told her, backing slowly towards the door. They could talk about this later, when she was dressed.

The smile she'd been wearing since he came in gave way to a frown. "Don't you want to see if you can feel it?"

He did, but he wasn't comfortable coming any closer right now. "It's probably too early anyway," he reminded her apologetically.

"Okay."

She looked so disappointed that he found himself hesitating. "What does it feel like?" he asked curiously.

"Like someone is poking me from the inside," she explained with a lopsided grin. "It's quite surreal, actually. Here, I'll show you."

"I'm not gonna touch you while you're in the bath!" he exclaimed, jumping back as though he'd been burned. That was basically sexual harassment. And after how she reacted the last time she was this exposed in front of him…

She rolled her eyes. "You want to be in the delivery room, don't you?"

"Of course!" he agreed. "You really think I would miss the birth of my kid?"

"So you really should get over your modesty. Besides, it's easier to feel when I'm lying down."

As usual, she had a point. He was going to be seeing a lot more of her before this was over. Still… "You're not gonna have one of those naked births, are you?" he asked warily as he approached her.

"I haven't decided." He must have looked horrified, because she quickly amended, "What I mean is, I don't have a birth plan yet. Dr. Edwards said it's customary to wait until the third trimester when labour is more imminent."

He wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or scared. God only knew what kind of bizarre birth rituals she was considering, and what his involvement in them would be. She would probably want him to eat the placenta or something creepy like that.

When he was close enough for her to grab his hand, she took it and placed it carefully to one side of her belly, pushing the tips of his fingers into her skin, which was still cool where the air touched it, like she was teaching him how to feel for a pulse.

"Whoa!" he cried, withdrawing it slightly, afraid that the pressure was hurting the baby. "Careful, Bones. We don't wanna poke his eye out!"

"In order to actually blind the foetus, you would have to rupture the amniotic sac," she explained in an exasperated tone, "and then we would have bigger things to worry about."

She paused, waiting for the baby to announce its location again, then adjusted his hand so that it was covering the right spot. "There. Do you feel that?"

He could just make out a faint tap against his fingers; not the full the full-blown kick that he'd been expecting, but a definite sign that there was something living inside of her. "That's it?" he asked, breaking into a slow smile as he glanced back up at her. "That's our baby?"

"That's our baby," she agreed softly. "Amazing, isn't it?"


	20. Chapter 20

_Thanks for the reviews. I'm dedicating this chapter to rayrayrayray for being my own personal cheer squad...  
_

* * *

Chapter 20.

"With a leg like that he could be a placekicker for the Steelers," Booth announced with a grin when what felt like a tiny heel made contact with his palm.

The baby's incessant kicking had woken Brennan up shortly after sunrise; it wasn't long before he was awake too, and since then, they'd been lying on their sides opposite one another, their hands resting lightly on her exposed belly, watching it for signs of life. If he squinted really hard now, he could just make out the slight ripples the baby's movements created. It never failed to make him smile; he still couldn't believe that this was really happening, that the woman he'd been in love with for the better part of five years was having his child, and that she wanted him to be a part of it. He wasn't sure what they were to each other exactly – they still hadn't put a label on it – but whatever it was, it felt good to fall asleep with her in his arms every night and wake up beside her each morning.

"What makes you so certain that it's a 'he'?" she asked him, replacing her shirt once it looked like the show was over. "There's an almost fifty per cent chance of it being a girl."

Almost. That meant not quite. "So you agree the odds of us having a boy are slightly higher?" he teased her. When she didn't deny it, he added triumphantly, "Oh yeah! It's gonna be a boy. I can feel it." It wasn't that he really wanted another son – all he wanted was for it to be born healthy and whole and to be there when it was – it just seemed safer somehow.

His cockiness caused her to roll her eyes, but she was smiling. "You can't possibly know that. The only accurate way to determine a child's sex before birth is through an amniocentesis." After a lengthy debate, during which Brennan had played devil's advocate, they'd decided to forgo the procedure. Even though the risk of miscarriage was small, after almost losing it once already, neither of them was prepared to gamble with their child's life that way.

"You must have a feeling," he prompted her. "Moms _always_ have a feeling."

"That is a generalisation," she argued stubbornly, refusing to indulge him.

"You're an anthropologist, Bones. You have to believe in maternal instincts." She was always talking about people's evolutionary need to protect their offspring, and so on.

"Mothering isn't instinctual, Booth. It's a learned behaviour. How else would an adoptive mother know how to bond with her child? Like Cam and Michelle, for instance?"

"You still haven't answered my question," he reminded her. "What does your gut tell you?"

"If by gut you mean 'uterus', all it's telling me is that this baby is very active," she complained, wincing as it kicked her again.

Without thinking, he brushed her hand aside, soothing the spot with his thumb. "Gee, I wonder where he gets that from." He trailed his fingers up her side, tickling beneath her ribs, teasing a laugh out of her. "Come on, Bones. You can tell me. What d'you think it is? Boy or girl?"

Her smile turned secretive, and he was sure that she was going to protest some more, but then finally, she said, "A girl," her voice soft and far away. "It's going to be a girl."

"Is that what you want? A daughter?" he asked curiously. It was rare that he could convince her to discuss her hopes and dreams for the baby and when he did, she would usually try to blame it on her hormones.

"It's not like we get to choose, Booth," she insisted, coming back to Earth. "The sex was decided at the moment of conception."

"But if you could? Hypothetically," he added, knowing that this was the best way to get her to play. She didn't like to speculate, but he could usually talk her into running scenarios with him.

"I think so," she admitted seriously. "I didn't have many close friendships growing up – the other girls, they thought I was weird – so my mom, she was like my best friend. I always thought that if I ever had a daughter, then we'd be like that."

"A girl would be nice too," he agreed.

* * *

"So, Park, are you excited to see your new brother or sister?" Booth asked, glancing back over his shoulder at his son, who was buckled into the backseat behind Brennan.

"If the baby is a girl, can we take it back and ask God for another one?" he asked, to Booth's horror. "I don't want a sister."

"Parker!" he snapped, unable to believe what he was hearing. He really thought that they'd gotten past this. "Babies aren't like sweaters! You can't just return them because God didn't give you the one you want! How would you feel if your mom and I decided to take _you_ back?"

"Booth," Brennan hissed, swatting his bicep, and he knew that he'd gone too far. "You can't threaten him with something like that. What if he thinks you're serious?"

She twisted around in her seatbelt so that she was facing his son."What your father is trying to say, Parker, is that in order for a species to survive, there has to be a proportionate number of males and females in the population."

"What does proporsha…?"

"Proportionate."

"…'proportionate' mean?" he asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

"It means 'equal'," she explained. "Although the worldwide ratio is actually estimated to be one hundred and one males for every one hundred females."

"Why?"

"Why are there one hundred and one males for every one hundred females?" she repeated patiently.

"Well, yeah," he agreed. "That's a lot of girls."

"Because you need both a male and a female to produce offspring, and women can only give birth to one child at a time – unless of course they're carrying multiples, which is rare."

"Is that why I have to share my dad with your baby?" he asked innocently. "Because you don't have a husband?"

To Booth's surprise, her back stiffened."Yes. I wanted to have a child so your father agreed to help me."

"How?"

And there it was: the question he'd been dreading ever since he informed his son that he'd gotten another woman pregnant. "I swear to God, Bones, if you use the word 'sperm'…" he murmured. He could just imagine the lecture he was going to get from Rebecca when she found out that he'd "let" his partner tell their son all of the gory details about how babies were made.

"So what you're saying is you want me to lie to him?" she asked him in a hushed tone. When his only response was to shoot her a filthy glare, she folded her arms over her belly. "Fine. You explain it to him. He's _your_ son."

Great. This was exactly how he'd imagined the day turning out when they'd picked his son up after school to take him to the anatomy scan. He tried to remember what his very Catholic mother told him when he was a kid. "Well, you see, moms, they have these eggs…"

"Like a chicken?"

"Exactly," he agreed, avoiding Brennan's eyes. "And those eggs, they turn into babies, but the moms can't make them into babies on their own – they need the special seeds that only dads have."

"So you gave Bones a seed so that she could have a baby?"

He cringed at how accurate his son's description was. What would he think of him when he was old enough to understand what he did? Would he see it as selfless or self_ish_? Would Brennan and the baby even still be in their lives then? "Yeah, and then she put it with the egg inside her stomach and it grew into a baby and here we are," he finished hastily, praying that his son wouldn't ask him to elaborate.

Parker considered this for a moment before nodding. "Okay," was all he said, to Booth's relief.

When he finally relaxed enough to look at Brennan again, her lips were pursed into a disapproving frown. "That was very inaccurate," she whispered, leaning across the gearbox_._

"He's seven, Bones. He doesn't need to hear about S-E-X."

"Our child wasn't conceived through sexual intercourse."

Like that was something he could ever forget. He snuck a glance at his son in the rear view mirror to see if he was listening. He was staring out the window, watching the scenery go by. "Because artificial insemination is so much easier to explain to a second grader," he hissed.

"You're not going to tell our child that ridiculous story, are you?" she asked. "Because if you are, then I would prefer it if you would let me handle all future talks about reproduction. I don't want my child to be misinformed."

"You really wanna have this conversation now? In front of my son?" he asked incredulously. Next, she was going to tell him that she didn't want their kid to believe in Santa or the Easter Bunny. What was wrong with letting kids be kids?

"We can talk about it later," she agreed, settling back into her seat.

He was looking forward to that conversation almost as much as his next physical. "I can't wait," he muttered.

* * *

"It's good to see you again, Seeley. And who is this handsome young man?" Dr. Edwards greeted him when he ushered Parker into the exam room with him.

Brennan was already settled on the bed. "This is Booth's son, Parker," she explained.

"I wasn't aware that you had any other children," the doctor told him, looking surprised. "Your son's mother – did you donate for her as well?"

"No," he assured her quickly, before she got it into her head that he went around giving his sperm to anyone who asked. "Parker is _my_ kid."

He didn't realise how bad this could sound until he caught the kicked puppy look his partner was giving him. "Not that this baby isn't," he added hastily, desperate to smooth things over between them before they got out of hand. "Can we just get on with the sonogram?"

"The purpose of today's scan is to get a closer look at what's happening in there to make sure your baby is developing normally," the doctor explained. "I'm going to leave you with Andrea here while I go look over the rest of your test results, but I'll be in my office afterwards to answer any questions you might have. Andrea will call me if she finds anything that she believes is cause for concern." She exited the room, and the sonographer got to work, applying the clear gel to Brennan's belly.

"Is that the baby?" Parker asked when the tiny humanoid figure appeared on the monitor.

"Yeah, Park." Booth wrapped his arm around his son. "See, there's his head, and there are his hands and his feet," he explained, pointing out each appendage for his benefit. "Look, he's kicking Bones. He does that a lot." He shifted his gaze back to Brennan, hoping to catch her eye, but her face was turned away from him, towards the image of their unborn child, so that he couldn't see her expression.

When moments passed without any acknowledgement from her, he knew that she was still upset with him. "Sit here and don't touch anything, okay?" he instructed his son. "I need to talk to Bones for a minute."

His son nodded, his eyes still focused on the screen. "Whoa!" he cried when the baby jerked suddenly. "He looks like he's sneezing."

"Did you know that unborn babies get the hiccoughs too?" the sonographer asked him_. _"Pretty cool, huh?"

While they chatted amiably, Booth crossed the room to his partner's side, crouching down near her head where he could speak to her without being overheard. "Listen, Bones," he whispered, "what I said before… I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

"I know," she agreed, but her smile was strained.

At times like this, he wished that she would just get mad at him instead of always trying to be so logical. "I'm serious, Bones," he insisted. "I love this baby so much already, and I love you for giving it to me." In the five months that they'd been doing this together, it was the closest that he'd ever come to telling her how he really felt about her.

The look she gave him was questioning, and he knew that she wanted to ask him if he meant _that_ the way it sounded, but before either of them could say anything else, they were interrupted by the sonographer. "Now, last time you said you wanted to wait for your husband to find out the baby's sex?" she reminded Brennan.

"Booth and I aren't married," she corrected her.

"Partner, then."

"She thinks we're sexual partners," Brennan whispered, the surprise in her tone causing him to chuckle softly.

"Look where we are, Bones. Can you blame her?" He was the father of her child: was it really that crazy to think that they'd slept together some time in the not too distant past?

He reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. "We have this bet," he told the sonographer. "She thinks it's a girl, I think it's a boy. Maybe you can settle it for us?"

The sonographer adjusted the wand on Brennan's belly, trying to get a better view, but the baby kept its legs stubbornly crossed. "He doesn't seem to want to cooperate," she told them apologetically. "Can you roll onto your side for me?" she asked Brennan.

Booth held onto her arm to steady her while she changed positions on the narrow bed.

"Wait, I think I see something," the sonographer said finally. "Congratulations, it looks to me like you have yourselves another son."

Parker leaped out of his seat, pumping his first in the air. "Yes!"

"I told you," Brennan said quietly when the sonographer turned the screen away from them to check the baby's vital organs.

"You said it was a girl," he reminded her. "_I_ said it was a boy."

"I told you there's no such thing as a maternal instinct," she corrected him miserably. "And if there is, I don't have one."

He cupped her jaw gently in his palm, forcing her to look up at him. "Hey, don't say that, Bones." If she was right, and mothering was a learned behaviour, then he had no doubt that she would pick it up just as quickly as she did everything else. "You are gonna be amazed at how naturally those feelings come when you hold that little boy in your arms for the first time." He smiled as his eyes landed on Parker. "I promise you, it'll be like your whole life has been leading up to that moment, and you won't even be able to remember what it was like before he came into it."

"I hope you're right," she agreed wistfully.

* * *

_For anyone who's interested, I've started writing another fic that bridges some of the gaps in and between The Hole in the Heart and The Change in the Game. I'm hoping to have the first chapter up this week. ;)  
_


	21. Chapter 21

_I know, I know, it's been too long, but I promise I have a good excuse! Aside from the usual uni stuff, last week __we found out _that the bookstore I work at might _have to close so I've been pretty depressed about that. It's been in trouble for a while now, so we kind of knew that it was coming, but still, it's never fun to be told that you're going to be out of a job soon - especially one you love. For the first twenty four hours I literally couldn't function, so I did what I'm sure a lot of you guys would do in that situation - watched old episodes of Bones until I couldn't think about anything else! ;)  
_

* * *

Chapter 21.

"How did everything go at Dr. Brennan's appointment?" Cam asked when she stopped by to deliver her autopsy report.

Instead of taking his partner back to the lab, Booth had dropped her off at his place with Parker so that she could rest while he went back to the office to finish off some paperwork.

"Great. Apparently I am good at making boys." He hit the play button on his computer again, angling the screen towards her to give her a better view. "Is that not the best looking kid you've ever seen?" he boasted, his face splitting into a broad grin as he watched the grainy footage for what must have been the tenth time in the last hour. "Except for Parker, of course."

"Of course," she agreed with a smile, coming around the desk to stand beside his chair_. _"Although I'd be a bad mom if I didn't mention Michelle."

"It was amazing," he continued after a moment. "We got to see everything. They even showed us the soles of his feet. Bones was in heaven. She kept asking questions about his metatarsals or whatever, which she says are perfect, just like the rest of him."

"I'm really happy for you, Seeley," Cam told him. "I know how much you wanted this to work out."

"What?" he asked when her smile froze, his own smile sliding for his face.

"Hold it there." He paused the video so that she could examine it more closely. "I would consider asking for a different sonographer next time."

"Why?" He squinted at the screen, trying to figure out what had got her attention. Everything appeared normal to him, but then he wasn't the one with the medical degree.

"Because that is not a boy."

He turned to look at her in surprise. "Wait, are you sure?"

"Positive," she agreed. "Unless your son has a vagina."

"But she saw his _thing_," he protested. According to Brennan, the odds of their baby being a girl were slightly less than fifty per cent. He wondered if she knew what the odds of it being a hermaphrodite were.

"What she saw was probably just the umbilical cord," Cam explained. "It's an easy mistake to make – especially if you're using a black and white Doppler." She clapped him on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Seeley. It looks like you finally broke the streak."

If what she said was true, then not only would this be his first daughter, but she would be the first girl born into the Booth family in generations. He sobered when he remembered that he and Brennan weren't the only ones under the impression that she was expecting another Booth boy. "What am I gonna tell Parker? He said he wanted to give the baby back to God if it was a girl." His son was a good kid. Wasn't that what he kept telling his partner? He would never actually do anything to hurt the baby… would he?

He could see that Cam was surprised? "Parker? He was there?"

"We thought if he saw it, it might make it more real for him," he explained.

"You know, Bones told me it was a girl," he added thoughtfully. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she found out that her instincts might have been right after all.

"She read the sonogram too?"

"No, she said she just had a 'feeling'."

"Dr._ Brennan_ said that?" Cam repeated in a dubious tone."The same woman who refuses to discuss motive during a case?"

"I'll admit, when she told me she wanted a kid, I was sceptical too," he agreed, "but she's changed so much since she got pregnant."

Six months ago, if someone had told him that she would not only allow him to share her bed, but actually _invite_ him into it, he would have said they were crazy, but each day he could see her softening, becoming a little less cynical, a little more open-hearted. Surely it wouldn't be much longer before she realised what everyone else had been telling them for years: that they could be great together, him, her, and their little girl, or boy, or whatever it happened to be.

* * *

The living room was empty when Booth let himself into his apartment; he followed the sound of voices into the kitchen, where his son and his partner were sitting at the table, surrounded by jars and bottles and other assorted items, engaged in what appeared to be some kind of experiment. He stood in the doorway for a moment, drinking in the sight of the mother of his second child interacting with his first.

"What's all this?" he asked when he finally moved to join them.

"We're learning about density," Brennan told him. She turned back to Parker with a sly grin. "Should we show him?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "This is honey," he explained, tapping the bottom of the jar closest to him, "this is water, and this is oil. The honey is the thickest, then the water, then the oil." He picked a penny up off the table and dropped it into the jar. "The penny sinks down to the honey, because it's the heaviest, but when I put a grape in—" He placed one in the jar to demonstrate "—it only goes down to the water because it's lighter than the honey, but heavier then the oil." Next, he added a bottle cork. "The cork is the lightest so it floats." When he was finished, he looked to Brennan for approval. Did I get that right? his eager expression asked.

"Excellent work, Parker," she praised him and he beamed at her, pleased with the compliment. "I couldn't have put it better myself."

"Wow," was all Booth could think to say, though it wasn't the science experiment that had him in awe. "Great job, bub," he told his son, mussing his unruly blonde curls affectionately. He caught Brennan's eye and they exchanged grins. "I think that's enough homework for now though. Why don't you go play in your room until dinner?" he suggested. He wasn't sure that he was ready for him to hear what Cam said yet; he felt like they should at least wait until after the next sonogram to be sure.

"Can we order pizza?"

"Sure. If that's okay with Bones?"

"Pizza sounds fine," she agreed.

With that, he slid out of his chair and scurried off.

"You spoil him," Brennan told him with a wry smile as soon as his son was out of earshot, standing to empty the jars into the sink.

He shrugged out of his jacket, rolling up his sleeves so that he could help her clean up. "Not intentionally," he assured her. "It's just what happens when you only get to see your kid ever other weekend." He didn't like to spend the little time he had with him arguing, so he tried to save it for when it was something really important.

She rinsed the honey out of the jar carefully while she thought this over. "I promise that I'll be fairer to you when the time comes to discuss custody," she said quietly, turning off the tap and placing it upside down on the sink. "I would never interfere with you spending time with our child."

"Damn straight," he agreed, trying to keep the conversation light-hearted to avoid getting emotional. "I'll be at your place so often both of you will be sick of me."

"I could never get sick of you, Booth," she corrected him, "and I don't think this baby could either. He's going to love you, just like Parker."

He bit back a smile at her use of the word 'he'. "How about you come sit down with me?" he said, determined to set the record straight. "There's something I wanna tell you."

Immediately, her expression changed to one of concern. "Is something wrong?"

"No, this is actually good news. At least I hope it is."

He took her hand and led her over to the couch, waiting until they were both settled, facing each other, to tell her his story. "Cam came by my office today.

"How is that newsworthy?" she insisted, her nose wrinkling in confusion.

"I'm getting to that part," he assured her, refusing to let her rush him. "Cam came by my office," he repeated, ignoring her impatient look, "so I showed her the sonogram, and she said that _he_ is actually a _she_."

Her hand drifted to her belly, caressing it absently as she processed this. "You mean she said the baby is a girl?" she asked.

"Yeah. You were right, Bones. Looks like you might get your daughter after all."

"Cam is not an obstetrician _or_ a sonographer," she argued stubbornly. "She's not really qualified to make those kinds of judgements."

"No, but I trust her," he admitted. She was as good at her job as his partner was hers. "If she says it's a girl, then I believe her."

"She really thinks it's a girl?" she repeated, staring down at the spot where her hand rested, then back up at him, in wonderment. "You too?"

"Yeah. I do."

A slow smile spread over her face as this sunk in, but moments later, it was replaced by a frown. "Are you disappointed?" she asked as an apparent afterthought.

That wasn't the reaction he was expecting. "Disappointed? Why would you think that?" he asked her.

"You said it felt like a boy," she reminded him. "And you're always referring to it as male. Would you be very disappointed if it wasn't?"

He hated the way she was looking at him, like she was afraid that she'd let him down him somehow, or worse, like she thought that he might change his mind about wanting to be involved now, even though she of all people had to know how irrational that was. If anyone was responsible for the baby being or not being a boy, it was him. He was the one who'd produced the deciding gene. "Honestly? I already have a son. If the baby does turn out to be a girl, then all that means is that I'll have one of each."

* * *

_I'm surprised at how many of you guessed where I was going with that! Based on your responses to the last chapter, I know that some of you are going to be unhappy with me, but it seems like whichever gender I choose, people are going to be disappointed._


	22. Chapter 22

_Thanks for the reviews (and your well wishes)._ _ So far this fic has been pretty AU, but there's one event from season five that I really wanted to include, albeit with an AU spin... ;)  
_

* * *

Chapter 22.

One night when Brennan was almost six months pregnant, Booth found her reclining in her desk chair with her eyes closed, holding a pair of headphones open over her belly. She looked so relaxed that he was almost afraid to disturb her, and cut into her bonding time with the baby, but she was expecting him to drive her home.

"What's that?"he asked her from the doorway.

A lazy smile spread over her features at the sound of his voice and she tilted her head towards him without opening her eyes. "Mozart. I read an article that suggested that playing classical music for your child while it's still in the womb stimulates intellectual development."

"Where did you read that?" he asked, coming over to sit on the edge of her desk. "_Scientific American_?"

"_American Baby_," she confessed, finally looking at him. "Angela got me a subscription. It's quite interesting. It has lots of informative articles on child care."

He nodded at the headphones. "So, what does she think?"

"The music appears to have a calming effect. She's very still."

"That's because you put her to sleep," he teased her. "What else've we got?" He flipped idly through the CD wallet on her desk, scanning the titles until he found one that he recognised. "That's more like it," he said, changing the disc.

"Now this is real music," he announced for their daughter's benefit, laying both hands over her so that he could feel her reaction; sure enough, as the first strains of 'Hot Blooded' filtered through the speakers, she began to kick. "Yeah, you like that, don't you?" he asked her, chucking at the way that she seemed to be rocking out to the song, just like he and Brennan had the first time they'd listened to it together. To his partner, he said, "I think we've got another Foreigner fan here."

"It does feel like she's dancing," she agreed with a smile, amused by his antics. "Even if I know it's only a reflex. She's just responding to the bass line."

"Well whatever it is, she has good taste," he told her, flashing her his best 'Cocky' grin. "She picked _us_ as her parents."

As usual, she rolled her eyes at his deliberate silliness. "You are a very strange man."

"But you love me anyway," he teased her, more as a reflex than anything, noting that while she shifted uncomfortably in her seat at his choice of words, she didn't exactly disagree.

He turned off the music, and lifted the headphones carefully from her belly, setting them to one side."Are you ready to go home?"

"You mean to my place?" she asked, using one elbow to sit up straighter in her chair.

"Unless you wanna come over?" He offered her his hand and she accepted it gratefully, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

"No, my apartment is fine," she assured him as he helped her back into her coat. "If that's fine with you?"

He resisted the urge to say 'fine' again. "Sure."

It was the same cryptic exchange that they had more or less every day now, where they pretended that nothing had changed between them, that it was just a coincidence that neither one of them had spent a night alone in almost two months, except for the ones that Parker was staying with him.

"Sorry about the mess," she said, fumbling for the light switch once they were inside her apartment.

There were some books on the coffee table, some mail on the counter, her laptop still in the dining room, but nothing particularly unsightly; he fought back the impulse to tell her that if she thought it looked bad now, she should wait until there was a baby living there too, knowing that there was a good chance that it would only lead to another meltdown where she sobbed that she wasn't ready. "What're you talking about? This place is immaculate, like always."

She stripped off her coat and hung it on the coat rack, then headed into the kitchen."Are you hungry? Because we could order in."

"I'm good for now," he assured her.

She peered critically into the fridge, which was uncharacteristically bare."I was going to go grocery shopping tonight after work," she explained, "but lately I find that all I want to do when I get home is sleep."

"Well you are almost six months pregnant," he reminded her, making a mental note to pick a few essential items up for her tomorrow so he knew that she was eating properly.

As he turned back to the bench, he noticed a sheet of pale blue paper resting on top of its envelope apart from the rest of the mail. "What's this?"

She frowned slightly when she saw what he was holding. "I was going to throw that away," she told him.

Her careful reaction only made him more curious. "Why didn't you tell me your high school reunion is next weekend?" he asked her once he'd finished reading it. It was the kind of information that she usually shared with him. At the very least, he would have expected her to ask his opinion.

"It didn't seem important," she insisted, dismissing it with a shrug that was just a little too casual to be convincing. "Besides, I'm not going."

If she'd already decided to boycott the event, then why had she kept the invitation? Why not throw it out as soon as it arrived? "No, Bones, you have to go," he told her, concerned that if she didn't make peace with that time in her life, she might never be able to move past it. "Look at you." She was the most successful person that he knew. "You're the world's leading forensic anthropologist, a _New York Times_ bestselling author, and in just a few months, you're gonna give birth to the most beautiful little girl ever to walk the face of the Earth."

"Not that you're biased," she complained with a tiny smile.

"My point is," he continued, ignoring her remark, mostly because he knew that she was right, "you've got a lot to be proud of. Why wouldn't you want to rub that in the faces of the people who tormented you in high school?" Maybe it was immature, but there would be a kind of grim satisfaction in watching everyone who'd ever hurt her endure the same feelings of unworthiness that they'd inflicted on her.

"None of that matters because I'm not married," she protested, making her way over to the couch so that she could sit down. "If I show up alone, looking like this—" She waved hand over her swollen stomach "—I'll be forced to spend the entire night explaining why the father isn't there. As far as they're concerned, I'll still be the same pathetic loser I was when I was seventeen, only now I'll be 'Poor Temperance, the lonely old spinster who had to impregnate herself because she doesn't know how to please a man'."

He had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from smiling at her reference to herself as a 'spinster'. Who called single women under the age of eighty that anymore? Besides, she was too pretty to be a spinster. She would have men lining up at her door, begging her to marry them, or at least go on a date with them, if she hadn't gotten so good at rejecting their advances.

"So then I'll come with you," he offered. Then she wouldn't have to make excuses for him. "You can tell them I'm your husband or fiance or whatever."

"That would be lying," she pointed out. "Because while you _are_ the father of my child, you're not my husband, or my fiance."

"It's a reunion, Bones," he insisted. "Everyone lies at reunions." Did she really think that he would have gone around bragging to everyone at his reunion about how Rebecca had dumped his ass before their son was even born?

"I'm pretty sure most of them don't invent fake husbands."

He thought of Cam and how she'd begged him to be her fake boyfriend to spare her the embarrassment of admitting to her family that she was still single."You'd be surprised, Bones. You'd be surprised."

She was silent for a moment as she considered his proposal."You really want to go with me?" she repeated in an incredulous tone, as if she couldn't quite believe that his offer was genuine. "To my reunion? It's in Chicago," she added, in case this was a deal breaker for him.

After being stuck in a rut for the past few weeks, he figured that it might be good for them to get away for a while, out of their usual routine; not to mention the fact that he was grateful for any opportunity to learn more about her and the person that she was before he met her. "Yeah. It'll be fun. We'll dance, we'll drink punch, we'll listen to ridiculously bad eighties music – it'll be just like senior prom."

His comment was meant to be facetious, but something seemed to harden inside her at his mention of the 'P' word. "I wouldn't know. I didn't go to my prom."

He knew he shouldn't be surprised by her avoidance of what she probably considered another meaningless social ritual, but somehow, he was. "You're kidding. What stopped you?"

"I was a foster child," she reminded him. "Where would I get the money to pay for a dress?" He hadn't really thought about the fact that her mother was out of the picture by then – dead for over a year, as they'd later discovered – and fairy godmothers, those only existed in fairytales. "Besides, I didn't have a date."

"No one asked you?" He wanted to tell her that he would have asked her, but given the type of kid he was back then, they would both know that this was a lie. He never even spoke to girls like her, much less dated them. Maybe he was being punished for it now, by being made to want the one woman that he could never seem to really have.

"One boy did."

"See? There you go," he told her, relieved that she hadn't been a complete outcast.

"But only because the first girl he asked turned him down," she finished with a kind of bitter indifference that broke – no, _crushed_ – his heart a little.

"I'm sorry, Bones," he said, reaching for her hand and just holding it, "but you know, that's all the more reason for you to go back there and show them why Temperance Brennan should never be anyone's second choice."

"Okay," she agreed slowly, staring down at where their fingers were entwined against her thigh, "I'll go, but I'm not going to lie."

"So how do you plan on introducing me?" he pressed as gently as he could, seizing the opportunity to ask the question that had been weighing on his mind for weeks now. They were long overdue for 'The Talk', but then they'd never done labels well. "What will you call me?" Somehow 'Baby Daddy' didn't really seem right for the situation.

"How would you like me to introduce you?"she asked shyly.

If he told her the truth – that he wanted to be her boyfriend, for starters – was she going to freak out on him? He couldn't be sure, so instead, he answered, "I don't know. Whatever you're comfortable with."

"Then I'll just say you're my partner, like I usually do," she answered in the same offhanded way that she'd announced that she wasn't going to the reunion and he couldn't tell if she was relieved, or disappointed like he was, or some combination of the two.

Sometimes, he found himself wondering if she understood that that word had a whole different meaning in a social context. She had seemed so surprised when the sonographer arrived at the conclusion that they were romantically involved. "Y'know, if you do, then they'll assume that you mean we're having sex. Especially because, well…" He nodded at her belly. "You are having my kid."

"That is circumstantial evidence," she protested. "Just because I'm having your baby does not mean that we're sleeping together."

"Except that we are," he reminded her in a meaningful tone. "Literally."

"Do you want to stop?" she asked, looking slightly alarmed at the idea that he'd grown tired of being with her all night, every night.

"No," he admitted. He couldn't stop. That was the problem. He wanted to hold her like that all the time, not just when she was asleep. "Do you?"

"No," she echoed softly.

"So I guess there's no point in us booking separate rooms?" he asked her, imbued with sudden boldness, silently daring her to find the flaw in his logic.

She couldn't. It was airtight. "I guess not," she agreed.


	23. Chapter 23

_As usual, thanks to everyone who reviewed. I had planned for this chapter to be much longer but I'm having a really rough week (not only is the bookstore I work at being forced to close but they're not renewing my contract for my other job so in two weeks I will be unemployed due to factors completely out of my control) and don't feel much like writing,_ _so I've decided to split it in half and just post the lead up to the reunion for now. The good news is that the other chapter (the reunion) is almost done so I should get able to get that up some time in the next few days. I know it's shameless, but some nice reviews really would brighten my day.  
_

* * *

Chapter 23.

Booth took the boarding pass Brennan handed him, fresh from the self check in machines, staring at it in disbelief. "You got us first class tickets?"

Since it was her reunion, she'd volunteered to take care of all of the travel arrangements. All he had to do was pick her up from work on Friday night and drive them to the airport in time for their flight. "Is this one of those situations where your pride is hurt because I make more money than you?" she asked warily. "Because if you would prefer, I could try to change yours to coach."

It was the first time they'd ever taken a trip together that wasn't work-related; he didn't exactly relish the idea of being separated from her for the entire duration of the flight. And for what? So that he could be crammed into an uncomfortably small space with a bunch of strangers? "Are you kidding? I'm just glad I don't have to spend the next two hours sitting next to a screaming baby."

In hindsight, he realised that this probably wasn't the right thing to say to a pregnant woman, especially the one carrying your child. "I thought you liked babies?" she asked him, and for a moment, he was afraid that she was going to burst into tears right there in front of security. While her mood swings weren't as bad as he'd feared when she first decided to get pregnant, he never knew when one was going to strike.

"I like our baby," he assured her.

"But not when she's screaming," she supplied.

He searched for a diplomatic response, one that would prevent them from getting into a fight about semantics. He didn't want them to start the weekend off on the wrong foot. "At least when it's our kid I'll be able to do something about it," he told her, grateful when she seemed to accept this answer, shrugging out of her trench coat and placing it in the tray without another word.

Now that they weren't together as much during work hours, he had been looking forward to a couple of hours of uninterrupted conversation with her, but she was asleep within moments of take off, curling against him across the armrest despite having more than enough space of her own.

There was no reason for him to disturb her until they reached Chicago, except his own selfish desire to spend time with her, so he decided to let her sleep off some of her exhaustion. Instead of talking to her, he amused himself by taking advantage of the free wine and the personal entertainment system that meant that for once, he didn't have to sit through episode after episode of whatever crappy sitcom the airline had chosen.

"Would you like another drink, sir?" a blonde flight attendant who must have been at least a few years older than him asked when he set down his glass for what, by his count, was at least the third time.

"No, I think I'm done," he admitted, allowing her to take it. He was starting to feel a feint buzz; as it was, as it was going to have to let Brennan drive them to their hotel.

"What about your wife? Is there anything that she needs? Water? Snacks? I could get her a pillow," she offered kindly.

He opened his mouth to correct her, but it would take too long to explain, and he doubted that she wanted to hear his entire life story anyway. When he glanced down at Brennan, she was still sleeping soundly with her head on his shoulder, a slight smile on her lips. "She's fine," he told her, brushing a lock of silky brown hair out of her eyes, impulsively running his fingers through it just like he'd thought about doing since the first time he saw her.

"Let me guess… Newlyweds?" the flight attendant said, still lingering beside them.

"What makes you think that?" he asked curiously.

"Just the way you look at her. I don't know many couples who are still that in love after the first year."

He wasn't sure that he would ever be able to take her for granted like that; not after everything that they'd been through. She was the reason that he'd started believing in soulmates, even if he knew that she'd scoff at the idea if he ever told her. Before he met her, and allowed her to infiltrate every aspect of his life, he could never imagine feeling this way, about anyone, and now he couldn't imagine not feeling like this.

"What can I say? She's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

* * *

The room Brennan booked for them was in a five star hotel in the city's north, about ten blocks from the neighbourhood where she'd lived with her parents before they disappeared. It was spacious and stylishly decorated, and while it didn't exactly scream 'expensive' like some of the places that he'd seen, Booth knew that it was probably outside of his budget. Two nights in a place like this had to cost more than his weekly rent.

"This is a step up from my usual FBI-sponsored accommodation," he once he'd set their bags down, kicking his shoes off and flopping down on the king sized bed to test the mattress. He was still a little tipsy from the flight, which he knew amused Brennan, who had learned not to overindulge in first class luxuries a long time ago.

"When I'm not travelling for a case, I prefer to stay somewhere where I don't have to run a UV light over the bedding before I know it's safe to get in," she explained, wrinkling her nose in disgust, as she began to unpack.

He watched her in silence for a few minutes, the ritual so familiar to him now, after all these years, and yet it felt strange and new not to have a room of his own to go back to.

When she was finished, he got up and hung his suit in the closet alongside her clothes, then he put his toothbrush next to hers on the sink, their belongings mingling together until he could no longer tell where her space ended and his began.

* * *

The next morning, after breakfast, they drove their rental out to the school and she showed him some of her old haunts. He couldn't say that he was surprised to learn that even as a teenager, she'd spent most of her time in the science lab, or at the library, pouring over thick history textbooks.

Once a squint, always a squint, he teased her.

He was a little disturbed to discover that her closest relationship was with the school's creepy custodian, Mr. Buxley, but he rationalised it by telling himself that he must have been like a father figure to her after her own had abandoned her.

They were about to head back to the car to go grab some lunch when another couple, loaded up with decorations, turned onto the path ahead of them.

"That's Julie Coyle and Brad Benson," Brennan whispered, and he could tell by the tension in her face that whatever her history with them, neither of them was someone that she would consider an old friend.

"Temperance? Temperance Brennan?" the man – Brad – greeted her once they were close enough to recognised her and she nodded.

"Yes."

The woman – Julie – regarded her with a cool expression. "Wow. Look at you. You look like you must be due pretty soon?" she said in a saccharine tone that made it difficult to tell if this was one of those passive aggressive insults women slung at each other, or if she was just trying to make conversation.

"Actually, I'm not due for another fourteen weeks," Brennan corrected her, looking confused.

"I see you're still as pedantic as ever," Julie remarked and he realised that it was probably the former. She stared at her thoughtfully. "You know, I never pictured you as the mommy type. Remember when we had to take care of those dolls for Health class? You stuffed yours in the trash, right after you told Mrs. Stadler that you didn't consider it a worthwhile use of your time. I'm surprised you didn't get detention for that. Then again, the teachers always did have a soft spot for you."

One look at his partner told him that Julie's barbs had hit home. He laid a hand on the small of her back, rubbing soothing circles there with his palm, silently willing her not to take it to heart. What did the other woman know about her, really? That was fifteen years ago. A lot had changed since then.

It was this gesture that drew Julie's attention to him. "Where are my manners? I'm Julie." She touched the shoulder of the man next to her. "This is Brad. And you must be…?"

To his surprise, Brennan snatched hold of his arm then, hugging it tightly in hers. "My husband. Booth. Seeley Booth."

"You call your husband by his last name?" Julie asked, eyeing them with a dubious expression.

"Everybody does," Brennan told her defensively, which wasn't that far from the truth. Cam was the only member of the Jeffersonian team to use his first name, and that was only because they'd known each other since they were little more than kids.

Julie still didn't seem convinced, or maybe she was just having a hard time understanding how someone as strange and socially awkward as Brennan could be happily married when she herself clearly wasn't. "You two don't seem like an obvious couple. How did you meet?"

"Booth is an FBI agent. I'm a successful scientist – the best in my field, actually – and a wealthy author." She stopped talking when Julie laughed loudly, blinking at her in surprise as though she had lost her mind.

"She's not joking, is she?" Julie asked Booth.

He shook his head. "My wife is brilliant," he agreed, deciding to play along. After all, he was the one who'd suggested it.

"He asked me to consult on one of his cases. The victim's skull had been—"

"I don't think they need to hear all the details, honey," he told her, cutting her off before she could give them a blow by blow account of the girl's injuries.

"Right." She smiled uncomfortably.

"How long have you been married?" Brad piped up.

Brennan looked at Booth. "Five years."

"Do you have any other kids?"

"Booth has a son, Parker. He's eight."

Booth reached over and gave her belly a loving pat with his free hand. "But this here is our first." That much at least was true.

"We're very excited," Brennan agreed brightly, which was also true.

"Congratulations," Brad told them with a sincere smile.

"Yeah, congratulations," Julie echoed, sounding petulant.

"Well, we should be on our way," Booth announced after a few more minutes of polite small talk about Brad's wife, Evelyn, who was apparently away on business. "See you both at the reunion."

With his arm still linked through Brennan's, he continued to usher her towards the car, waiting until they were out of earshot to ask, "What was that?"

"What was what?" she asked innocently.

"I thought you said you weren't gonna lie?" Not that he really minded, he just wondered why she'd changed her mind.

"She just made me so angry," she confessed, her expression softening as she added, "What if she's right? What if I'm not cut out to be a mother?" She gripped his arm tighter, laying her head on his shoulder as they walked.

To anyone who was still watching, they must really look like a couple, he thought idly, resting her head against hers. "Just because you don't bake or scrapbook and you wouldn't be caught dead at a PTA meeting doesn't mean that you won't be a good mother," he told her. "You are gonna love this baby, Bones. You already do."

* * *

_As you may have noticed, I am ignoring the murder since we established a while back that no one is really here for the crime. ;)_


	24. Chapter 24

_Thank you all for your wonderful response to last chapter. It made me feel better to hear that so many of you have similiar stories. It sucks, but there's nothing we can do except try to move forward. Speaking of moving forward, I think you will like where things are headed...  
_

* * *

Chapter 24.

Back in their room, Booth watched the complimentary cable while Brennan napped beside him, close enough that he was able to put his hand on her belly from time to time and feel the baby wriggling around inside of her.

When she woke up, they ate an early dinner down at the hotel bar before heading back upstairs to dress for the reunion.

Since all he had to do was shower and put on his suit, they agreed that he should go first. Then she could have as much time in the bathroom as she needed.

He had finished getting ready and was sprawled with one arm tucked behind his head, idly flipping through the channels when she emerged wearing a dress with a deep v-neck and capped sleeves and a skirt that fell from the top of her belly, down to just below her knees. It was made of a soft, crinkly material, a kind of indigo-grey, only a few shades darker than her eyes, which were made up more dramatically than usual. Her dark hair was glossy from brushing, falling around her shoulders in its natural long waves.

"You look amazing," he told her, sitting up so that he could see the effect in full. "All the guys at the reunion are gonna be sorry that they didn't ask you out when they had the chance." As far as he was concerned, she was perfect even when she was wearing her shapeless navy jumpsuit, covered in corpse slime, but that didn't mean he didn't still get a thrill out of seeing her dressed up like she was now.

She ducked her head to hide the blush that crept into her cheeks at the compliment, but he could see that she was smiling. "You shouldn't lay down in your suits," she teased him good-naturedly when he stood up, flattening the creases with her palm. "You'll get them all wrinkled." She fixed the knot in his tie for good measure, smoothing it down against his chest. "There."

Her sense of equilibrium left a lot to be desired these days so he let her lean on his arm while she shoved her fortunately not too swollen feet into a pair of elegant black pumps. Then she picked a matching clutch purse up off the bed. "Shall we?"

"Hold on, I have something for you," he told her as she began to move towards the door. He pulled a rectangular box from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, offering it to her.

"What is it?" she asked, eyeing it warily.

The shape alone had to tell her that it definitely wasn't a ring. Still, she never had been very good at accepting gifts. It was one of her more frustrating qualities. "Just open it," he urged her, pressing it into her palm so that she had no choice but to take it.

She peeled the lid off carefully, glancing up at him in a mixture of astonishment and confusion when she saw what was nestled inside. "You bought me a corsage?"

Not for the first time, he wondered if it had been a good idea. "You said you never went to prom, so I'm guessing you never had one of these either," he explained, hoping that she wouldn't be spooked by such an openly romantic gesture. It wasn't that he thought he could win her over that way, like Angela had suggested; he just wanted her to know how special she was, to him, at least.

"I wasn't sure what colour you were wearing..." He remembered from his own prom that you were supposed to check beforehand to avoid choosing something that would clash with your date's dress, so without this information, he'd figured that something simple and delicate, like white roses, would be the safest bet.

He could tell by the tears that formed in her eyes as she looked at it that it could have been a bouquet of poison ivy and she still would have been ecstatic. "It's beautiful," she whispered. "Thank you."

"Here, let me put it on for you." He tied the ribbon gently around her wrist, holding her hand for just a fraction longer than was necessary before finally letting it go. "Perfect."

He knew that he'd done the right when, a few minutes later, as he locked the door behind them, he caught her sneaking a furtive glance at her wrist, admiring it with a smile.

* * *

"Julie did do a good job on the decorations, I'll give her that," Booth said as they walked into the gym, which was covered in blue and white balloons and streamers for the reunion. With a disco ball hanging from the ceiling, it really did remind him of his senior prom, except that tonight, he wasn't trying to get into anyone's pants.

"Too bad she's still a terrible human being," Brennan complained bitterly, squeezing his arm a little too hard when she spotted her making the rounds with a brunette woman with supermodel good looks. "That's Evelyn Simms. Brad's wife. She was captain of the cheerleading team and Homecoming Queen."

In other words, she was the kind of girl who would have made him – and all the other boys – crazy in high school. Twenty years later, though, all he could think was that Brennan was way prettier. Smarter, too.

"She hates me," she admitted, a note of apprehension in her tone, just as the two women began making their way over to them.

"Evie, you remember Temperance?" Julie asked Evelyn when they stopped in front of them. She waved her hand dismissively. "Of course you do! How could you forget? This gorgeous man is her husband. Booth. She calls him by his last name. Isn't that weird?" she finished, laughing cruelly.

To his surprise, Evelyn didn't look amused. "Oh, put a sock in it, Julie," she told her, rolling her eyes. "High school's over."

"I expect she's having trouble letting go of the past now that you and Brad are married," Brennan explained innocently, loud enough for Julie to hear. "Especially since she's still single herself." To anyone else, it must sound like she had decided to fight fire with fire by trying to out bitch Julie, but he knew that her mind her mind didn't work like that. As far as she was concerned, she was just making one of her infamous anthropological observations.

For a moment, Julie was too flabbergasted to speak. Then she retorted, "If I wanted Brad, I could've gotten him."

"No, you couldn't," Evelyn told her sharply.

"You really couldn't," Brennan agreed, chuckling to herself. She looked her over with a practiced eye like she would one of her skeletons. "Not only are you unpleasant to be around, but you have an unusually large mandible, and your cervical vertebrae appear to be very small, even for someone of your stature. I suspect that's why your neck is so short."

Booth was glad he wasn't drinking anything yet. If he had been, he probably would have snorted it out of his nose.

With a shriek of barely contained rage, Julie stalked off to go check on the refreshments. From where they were standing, he could hear her picking a fight with the caterer.

When she was gone, Evelyn turned back to Brennan, studying her for a moment before she finally said, "Temperance Brennan. I do remember you. You broke my jaw with a tennis racquet. I couldn't eat solid food for months. I lost ten pounds that year."

"Bones!" Booth cried in a mock scandalised voice, struggling to suppress his laughter at the image of a teenage Brennan walloping the head cheerleader across the face with her racquet during a game. It really was a miracle that she hadn't gotten detention more often. He hoped she wasn't planning to teach their daughter that trick or else they would both be spending a lot of time in the principal's office.

"Not on purpose!" she protested, her voice rising defensively as though she'd already been over this many time in the past. "It was an accident. She got between me and the ball."

Sure, he thought, making a mental not to tease her some more about it later when they were alone.

"Honestly, I wouldn't blame you if it wasn't," Evelyn confessed. "I was kind of a bitch back then. I guess we've all evolved." She glanced over at Julie, just in time for them to watch her slam a tray down on the table, still ranting furiously. "Well, most of us anyway."

* * *

It wasn't long before Brennan got bored of making small talk with her former classmates and then they stocked up on refreshments and went to sit at their own table.

"C'mon, Bones – let's dance," he suggested once they'd both finished their cake, which was surprisingly good, worried that she wasn't enjoying the experience as much as he'd hoped she would. It was barely nine o'clock on a Saturday night and he could tell that she already wanted to go home.  
"I'm twenty-six weeks pregnant, Booth," she laughed_._

"So?"

"My centre of gravity has shifted dramatically. I can barely walk in a straight line, much less dance." She concentrated on scraping the leftover icing from her plate with her plastic fork, even though she didn't seem to have any intention of eating it. "If you're looking for a partner, you could always ask Julie. She seems to find you very attractive."

He couldn't help smiling at how irrational this thought was. To the rest of the world, she might be Temperance Brennan, the successful scientist and bestselling author, but here, with him, she was just like any other woman in her third trimester of pregnancy: moody, insecure, and if he was lucky, maybe even a little jealous. "I don't wanna dance with Julie, Bones, or any of the other women here. I want to dance with my wife," he teased her.

She put her fork down. "You don't have to keep calling me that, Booth – especially when we're alone," she said, finally looking up at him. "I shouldn't have lied about being married. It was juvenile. I'm sorry."

He wasn't really sure why she was apologising when he was the one who'd goaded her into it. "But it was worth it to see the look on her face," he told her with a grin. "She's probably still trying to figure out how a science geek like you managed to bag a solid ten."

She cocked her head, fixing him with her trademark blank stare. "I don't know what that means."

"Think of it as a mathematical scale for rating potential mates," he explained, knowing that this was a concept that she could easily grasp. "Ten being the most attractive."

"In that case, you also bagged a ten," she told him, mimicking his phrasing, although as usual, the words sounded so clumsy and awkward coming from her mouth that he couldn't help but laugh.

"Does that mean that our kid will be, like, a twenty?"

"You said the scale only goes up to ten," she reminded him.

"Fine. A ten. Whatever." The number wasn't the point.

"I imagine that if she looks anything like us, she will be very attractive," she agreed.

"Which is why we are not letting her date until she's at least forty," he announced, already dreading the day when his sweet little girl would hit puberty. He'd heard enough horror stories from Cam, and besides, he knew how teenage boys thought.

"You're worried about her having sex," she realised. "I'm thirty-three. Does that mean I shouldn't be having sex?"

He hated when she used logic against him like that. What was he supposed to say? How could he tell her that she was right, he _didn't _like the thought of her having sex, but that her age had nothing to do with it?

When the music changed, he seized on the opportunity to dodge the question, knowing that it would only lead to a serious argument."Look at that! A slow song. You can still sway, right?" he asked, turning on the legendary Booth charm.

She shot him an exasperated look, but she allowed him to pull her up from her chair and lead her out onto the dance floor. Once they arrived at their destination, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, drawing her as close to him as he could with the baby between them, and she slid her own arms around his neck in response. She was still wearing the corsage that he'd given her; he could feel the soft petals brushing against him as she made herself comfortable in his embrace.

"I'm actually glad I let you talk me into this," she confessed after a while, pulling back so that she could look at him.

"Dancing with me?"

She shook her head. "This. The reunion. I think I needed to come back here to see how lucky I am now. I have a great job, wonderful friends, a healthy baby that I already love more than I ever thought possible… And I have you." She imbued these last words with so much significance that for a moment, he could barely breathe.

"Your fake husband," he joked, to mask the tension that he felt.

"There's nothing fake about you, Booth, or the way you treat me," she corrected him softly. "You've taken better care of me than most real husbands would. I know it doesn't always seem like I appreciate it, but I do."

"I would do anything for you, Bones," he told her, stopping short of actually saying the words. "You know that."

Before, her head had been safely ensconced against his shoulder, but now, she was so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his face, her wide blue eyes searching his, and all of a sudden, he didn't know if he could suppress his desire for her anymore. Before he could talk himself out of it, he leant in and pressed his lips cautiously against hers, but she didn't try to push him away like he expected. Instead, she kissed him back just as tentatively, her hand rising to cover the back of his head, anchoring him to her.

He wasn't sure how long he stood kissing her like that, but it must have been a while because when she finally broke from him, it was to murmur, "We should leave." She braced her forehead against his while they each caught their breath, smiling a diffident smile that made him want to kiss her again so that they would both know that it wasn't a fluke. "We seem to be attracting an audience."

To her right, he could see Julie gaping at them from somewhere behind her. "Where?" he asked breathlessly.

"The hotel." Her husky tone left no doubt as to her meaning.

"Are you sure?" They were hundreds of miles from home in a place where everyone thought they were already a couple. It would be easy for them to get caught up in their own story, without any thought for the consequences that were sure to arise when reality set back in.

Her answer was firm, decisive. "Yes."

* * *

_Just a quick warning: I don't do M, so please don't ask me to change the rating. Personally I prefer to keep those kinds of scenes tasteful and sweet, which I think fits the tone of this story better anyway.  
_


	25. Chapter 25

_Thanks for the reviews. As many of you will know, it's always a little nerve-wracking writing these chapters because you don't want them to end up feeling anticlimatic! I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out, though, and I hope you all are too!  
_

* * *

Chapter 25.

Booth didn't know how they were able to restrain themselves long enough to make the drive back to their hotel; by the time he managed to fit his key card into the slot on the door, Brennan already had his tie undone and was focused on getting him out of his shirt.

He kissed her deeply as he guided her backwards into the room, nudging the door shut behind them with the heel of his dress shoe.

Even with both of them working together, there were too many buttons, so in the end, he just yanked his shirt over his head, dropping it onto the floor with his previously discarded clothing.

It wasn't until she shoved him gently back onto the bed that the reality of the situation began to sink in. This wasn't some woman that he'd picked up in a bar, it was Brennan – his Bones – his partner, dearest friend, and the soon-to-be mother of his child. Did he really want to risk all that just so he could get laid?

Maybe we should slow down, he thought. Ease into it, like they should have before. Sure, they'd already had five years of foreplay, yet somehow that didn't seem long enough to prepare them for the magnitude of this moment and the changes to their relationship that were sure to follow.

He tried to string together the words to tell her this, but before he could, she shimmied out of her dress, letting it pool on the carpet at her feet, and crawled over him with a kittenish smile, and he forgot what he was worried about.

When he finally remembered, he forced his eyes shut so that he wouldn't get distracted again by her nearly naked form, trying to ignore how good it felt to have her peppering his chest with tiny kisses. "Bones, are you sure you wanna do this?" he groaned, even though the last thing he wanted to do right now was stop her.

He heard her laugh, a soft, throaty sound that made him wish that his grandfather hadn't raised him to be such a gentleman. "You don't have to keep asking me that, Booth. It's not like I'm a virgin."

Physically, but emotionally, he wasn't so sure. It was true that she'd had sex before, more times than he cared to think about, but not with someone as deeply engrained in her life as him, someone that she shared a deep connection with. Someone that she might actually love.

"Yes, I do." They'd already established that sex between them would never be meaningless. Once they stepped over that line, that was it; he couldn't go back to being just her partner. Whatever the result, this would always be between them. That was why they'd always avoided it in the past. He needed to be sure that she understood that before they went any further. "Last time—" He began but she silenced him with an open-mouthed kiss that sent his mind reeling again.

Okay then, he thought through what she would tell him was the rush of endorphins that washed over him as he got caught up in kissing her again, until she reached for the belt buckle that she herself had given him, back when the old rules still applied. Then, sensing that they were about to pass the point of no return, he grabbed her hand, holding it tightly in his so that she would have no choice but to listen to him. "Bones, stop."

It didn't occur to him that she would take him literally until she twisted free of his grip, fumbling at the side of the bed for her hotel robe to cover herself up. "You know what?" she said, her sultry tone replaced by one of what he could only guess was resentment. "Maybe you're right. Maybe this was a mistake. I can call down to the desk and see if they have another room available on short notice. I think that would be best."

"Whoa, what just happened?" he asked her, stunned by her about turn. He'd done his best to respect her feelings this time and yet somehow he'd still managed to upset her. He could hear the telltale wobble in her voice that meant that she was trying not to cry.

"You're obviously uncomfortable with the idea of having sex with me," she insisted, knotting the robe tightly around her waist. "Since you weren't this apprehensive when we tried two months ago, I can only assume that it's because you're no longer aroused by me. It's nothing to be ashamed of. A lot of men lose interest in physical intimacy with their mates during the latter stage of pregnancy."

That was what she thought? That he was turned off by the fact that she was pregnant? What happened to all of her talk about it being erotic? Or was that all it was? "That is not it at all, Bones," he told her. "I just don't wanna hurt you. You or the baby. That's why I thought we should talk about this first. To make sure it's not a mistake."

She raised her head, eyeing him with a hopeful look. "You mean you're not repulsed by me?"

The only person he was repulsed by was himself for giving her the indication that that could ever happen. "No. Why would you even think that?" He tried to remember if anyone had made a comment about her size at the reunion. "Is it what Julie said? Bones, she was just being bitchy." He untied the knot, letting the robe fall open so that he could see her again. "You're beautiful. You being pregnant doesn't change that."

To show her that he was serious, he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her belly, like he'd wanted to since the day she first told him. Then he pulled her back down, kissing her sweetly. "You're having my kid," he said when he finally released her. "_Our_ kid. There's nothing more beautiful to me than that, okay? Nothing."

"Prove it," she whispered, and this time, he didn't wait for her to tell him that she was sure.

* * *

Later, he lay beside her with his body cocooned around hers under the comforter, his palm splayed protectively across her belly, like he had so many times before, only tonight, everything was different. There were no boundaries – literal or figurative – between them anymore. Almost as though he needed to prove it to himself, he pressed a lingering kiss to her bare shoulder, still in awe of the fact that he was allowed to act on these impulses where she was concerned. He waited for her to change her mind and rebuff him but if she was bothered by the claim he'd made over her body she didn't show it; he continued his experiment by dropping his lips lower, to her shoulder blade, resting his cheek against the smooth skin.

"Are you okay, Bones?" he asked her. At first he'd figured that she was just processing, but now her silence was beginning to make him a little uneasy. He wished he knew what she was thinking, if she was quiet because she was as contented as he was, or because she was too embarrassed by what had just transpired between them to speak.

He wasn't sure what to do at first, with her so pregnant, but together they'd figured it out, and once they got over the logistical issues, it was as good as he'd always imagined it would be; although admittedly, he couldn't help feeling a little guilty when the baby stirred, almost as if she knew what they were doing. That would take some getting used to. Fortunately, she didn't appear to be as stubborn as her mother, falling still again the moment he laughed and whispered for her to go back to sleep.

"Dr. Edwards said I'm not at risk for preterm labour, so there's no reason that sex would be harmful to me or our child," Brennan said finally, in a distracted tone, her voice languid with exhaustion.

As usual, he found it difficult to tell if she was dodging the question or if she had simply misunderstood it. "That's not what I'm asking. Are you okay? After what happened last time… I just don't want you to have any regrets about this." He needed to know that they were both on the same page.

She lifted her head off the pillow, turning it so that she could look at him. "Before, when we talked about it, you said having sex with me would complicate an already complicated situation. Is that still how you feel?"

"Casual sex. What I said was that having _casual_ sex with you would complicate an already complicated situation," he corrected her, before she could get the wrong idea about that too. "This – you and me – just makes things simpler." Instead of being co-parents, they could just be parents. Maybe they could even give Parker and the baby another sibling one day.

"Then no, I don't have any regrets," she told him, settling deeper into his arms.

For years, he'd worried that if he ever gave into the temptation to sleep with her, she would use it as an excuse to push him away; he felt the knot of fear in his chest loosen on hearing that she wasn't going to try to take it back.

Now that he was confident that she viewed this new development as a positive step, he decided to take the plunge and tell her how he felt. He was pretty sure that she must know already, but he needed her to hear the words, even if she wasn't comfortable repeating them just yet. "You don't have to say anything if you're not ready, but I just want you to know that I love you, Bones."

As he expected, she didn't reply. Instead, she lifted his hand to her lips and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles, running the pad of her thumb gently over the dark hairs."So what do we do now?" she asked quietly, replacing his arm around her, but this time, she kept her fingers entwined with his.

He leaned in so that his lips were almost touching her ear. "I can think of something," he murmured with a husky laugh.

"I mean when we get home," she explained seriously, turning onto her other side so that she was facing him. "What happens then? Are we going to keep having sex?"

"No, we're not," he said; her expression tensed in anticipation of his next words, "because that's not what this is." Tonight wasn't about alcohol, or hormones, or chemical reactions. Tonight was about them, and how grateful they were to have found each other.

She relaxed slightly when she realised that he wasn't ending things between them. "Oh, I'm sorry. Would you prefer 'making love'?"

In truth, he would, especially when she said it, but only because for him, that was exactly what they'd just done. "I don't care what we call it, just as long as we both agree that there's more to us than that."

"You mean you want us to have a relationship?" she supplied with surprising astuteness. He was so used to having to spell things out for her that he was always amazed when she revealed how much she actually understood.

"Yeah," he agreed. "No more messing around, dating other people. From now on, it's just you and me. D'you think you can handle that_?" _As much as it would kill him to break it off now that he knew what it was like to touch every inch of her, he would rather do that than allow them to cheapen their partnership by using each other for sex, especially now that they shared a child as well.

"I can try."

"That's all I'm asking," he told her, kissing her gently, making her smile.

She laid her head on his chest. "Does this mean we're a couple now?"

He circled her with his arms, and as she drew her body closer, moulding herself to him, he felt the baby shift where her belly touched his side. "No, Bones, we're a family."

* * *

_At the risk of sounding like I'm milking it, tomorrow is my last day at the book store and then the day after that we're closing it up for good, so some positive reviews would give me something to look forward to at the end of what is sure to be an emotional day._

_Oh and for those of you who are worried, this isn't the end. Obviously they still have a lot off stuff to work out before they can get their happily ever after. ;)  
_


	26. Chapter 26

_Thanks for the reviews. I apologise for leaving you all hanging again. Barely two days after we closed up the bookstore my grandfather passed away (this really hasn't been my month) so between those two events it was difficult for me to find the inspiration to finish what you'll see is a ridiculously fluffy chapter. At this stage, I can't tell you when the next update will be since I will be out of state most of this week for the funeral, but hopefully it won't be too far away.  
_

* * *

Chapter 26.

Despite Brennan's assurance that she had no regrets about what had happened between them, when Booth woke in the early hours of the morning, he was alone.

As he groped for her body in the darkness, he was relieved to discover that her side was still warm. That meant that she had to be somewhere nearby. He sat up, searching the dark room for her until he spotted her silhouetted against the window, her gently rounded belly appearing more pronounced in profile.

As his eyes began to adjust to the dim light, he saw that she was seated on a chaise lounge with her legs curled beside her, wrapped in her fluffy white robe, staring pensively out over the city. He could tell by her expression that something was weighing heavily on her mind, although he had no idea what that could be after watching her drift off to sleep peacefully in his arms just hours before.

He couldn't have a serious conversation with her while he was naked so he found his boxers amid the jumble of clothing on the floor and slipped them on before going to join her.

"Bones, what're you doing up?" he asked her when he was close enough for her to hear him without him having to raise his voice.

He noticed that she was resting a hand on top of her belly like she often did when she was trying to connect with the baby, and he wondered if this was one of those moments where she'd been using her as a sounding board for whatever was bothering her. "Our little kung fu master keeping you awake?"

As the words left his mouth, he wondered if he was going to have to explain them, but she'd heard enough of his cutesy nicknames by now to know who he was talking about.

She tore her eyes from the view beyond the glass, acknowledging him with a soft smile. "No. I was just thinking."

"Oh yeah? What about?" He motioned for her to move forward, and when she did, he slid into the space behind her with one leg on either side of hers.

"How much my life has changed since the last time I was here," she confessed, settling back against him as if the two of them sitting together like this were the most natural thing in the world.

"For the better, I hope," he prompted, seized with what he hoped was an irrational fear that she'd changed her mind after all and had spent all of this time trying to figure out how to tell him.

Her hair tickled his collarbone as she nodded and he felt himself begin to relax. She didn't want to break up with him. Just the opposite. "After my parents disappeared, when Russ sent me into foster care… I thought those days were over, you know? I would never be happy like that again. And I was okay with that. I had school and my work. I didn't need anything else." She crossed her arms over his, wrapping them tighter around her. "Then I met you, and you opened the world up to me again. You showed me all the things that I was missing out on, like love and friendship and family…"

He placed a lingering kiss on her temple. "And now you're about to have one of your own." That was all he'd ever asked for her and he felt so honoured that she'd chosen him out of all the men in her life to give it to her.

"I know," she agreed, "and I'm happy. I am. But it's been so long since I let my happiness depend this much on someone else. What if…?" She trailed off as if she couldn't bear to say the words out loud in case they came true, but he knew what she meant, because it was the same thought that had kept him paralysed with fear until tonight.

The only difference between them, it seemed, was that he was more optimistic about the future than she was. "Bones, if what you're trying to say is that you're scared you're gonna lose this too, then you don't have to be. I'm not going anywhere. Not willingly."

He shifted his hand downwards so that it lay over hers on her belly. "And neither is she. At least not for another eighteen years," he couldn't resist teasing her. There was no way her kid would be allowed to skip college. If she had her way, their daughter would probably be able to go anywhere in the country.

She lifted her head from his chest, turning to look at him. "Promise?" she whispered.

He thought he'd seen every side of her by now, but this one was new; he couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice as he said, "It's not like you to accept something without proof." It wasn't like her to be so openly needy either. Then again, they'd never had this kind of relationship before.

At first she just smiled. Then she explained, "In all the time that I've known you, I've never seen you break a promise, to anyone. Based on the evidence, if you promise that you would never intentionally leave me, then I have to trust that you believe that what you say is true."

It made him happy to hear that while she was sceptical of concepts like love and fate and forever, the one thing that she did have faith in was him, and his devotion to her. Still, if she needed him to promise to feel secure that he was in this for the long haul, then that was what he would do. "This is it for me, Bones. I'm not going anywhere. _I promise_."

"I believe that you mean that," she agreed by way of acceptance.

She tilted her chin towards him and he lowered his face to hers, kissing her sweetly.

After a few moments, he disentangled himself from her and stood up. "Now, will you stop stressing yourself out and come back to bed? It's cold out here." It was only October, but already there was a slight chill in the air.

She held her hand out for him to help her up, and he did, leading her back to their bed, where he sealed his promise by stripping her of her robe and making love to her again.

* * *

She was still sleeping when he woke again at a more reasonable hour, her dark hair fanning out behind her in stark contrast to the pillow, so he lay there in silence, holding her loosely with one hand on her side, glad that he didn't have to be surreptitious about studying her anymore.

It was some time before she opened her eyes to the sight of him watching her, and then she smiled, stretching out her tired limbs.

"How're my girls this morning?" he asked her.

"Your girls?" she repeated, blinking at him.

He grinned. "Yeah." After their conversation the night before, he finally felt like he could say things like that without the fear of scaring her away. He stroked the hair tenderly back from her face, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. "Girl," he said when he pulled back. He lifted the blankets, pressing a second kiss to the side of her belly. "Girl. My girls," he finished.

Her mouth twitched as she fought back a grin of her own. "Cam is not an expert at reading sonograms," she pointed out seriously, even though deep down, he knew that she believed her; mostly because her gut was telling her the same thing. "Our child could still be a boy. Isn't that why we're waiting to correct Parker?"

Less than twelve hours in and he could already see that she wasn't going to be the easiest girlfriend that he'd ever had. Still, he wouldn't trade being with her for anything in the world.

He flopped onto his back beside her with a theatrical sigh. "You know, Bones, you are maddening sometimes," he deadpanned. Only she could turn what was only supposed to be an affectionate morning greeting into a factual debate.

He forgot all about his frustration, however, when, fully awake now, she slid the leg closest to him over his so that she was straddling him beneath the blankets. "I could say the same thing about you," she purred in a voice that sent shivers of anticipation down his spine, ducking her head to nuzzle the underside of his jaw.

Twice in the space of a few hours was more than enough to satisfy him after one of the longest stretches of celibacy in his adult life. "Again?" he groaned in mock complaint, putting his hands on her hips to steady her. Clearly she wasn't exaggerating when she'd bragged that all of the hormones coursing through her system kept her in an almost constant state of arousal. The fact that she'd been abstaining for almost as long as he had, including the first six months of her pregnancy, probably hadn't helped. "Are you trying to kill me?"

She paused long enough to glance up at him in mild alarm. "I only entered into a relationship with you last night, Booth. Why would I already want to murder you?" she asked earnestly and he forced himself not to laugh.

"It's an expression, Bones. I know you don't really want to kill me."

She turned her attention back to him, or rather, his body, running her palm over his chest, down to his stomach. "Your musculature is very well-defined," she noted, tracing his abs with deft fingers. "No wonder so many of the women we work with want to have sex with you. You are a near perfect male specimen."

And I'm all yours, baby, he thought. What he said was, "If you keep that up, Bones, we're gonna miss our flight," even though he couldn't help feeling proud that, by her own admission, she liked what she saw. They only had a couple of hours before they had to be back at the airport and they still had to shower, eat, and pack up their remaining stuff, all of which had to happen before their ten o'clock check out.

But he could see that she wasn't going to be deterred from her careful exploration of him, intent as she was on making up for lost time. Not that he really minded. He couldn't think of a more enjoyable way to spend a beautiful Sunday morning like this one than lounging in bed in a luxury hotel while the woman he loved had her way with him.

Even if that did mean missing their flight.

"I'm sure we can find another one," she told him reasonably as she bent down to kiss him and they silently agreed to worry about it later.

* * *

_It's funny that one reviewer mentioned Angela: I've already started a plotting a scene where she confronts them about their behaviour. I am interested to know which other characters people would like to see reactions from, though, since they've been beleagued with unsolicited advice from pretty much everyone about how they should approach this situation.  
_


	27. Chapter 27

_Thanks for the reviews and for your kind condolences. Fortunately things have settled down a bit now, although I'm still yet to find a new job, which is good for you guys because it means more frequent updates. I have to agree with Stephen Nathan, though, when he says that it "becomes uninteresting when the conflict disappears" (reviews peaked with chaper 25 and then dropped off by more than half with chapter 26) so prepare for some angst in this chapter, which is just a taste of what I have in store for them in future.  
_

* * *

Chapter 27.

They eventually made it back to DC where they spent what was left of the weekend finding new ways to break the laws of physics.

Brennan didn't have her car after spending the night with him so Booth drove her into the Jeffersonian on Monday. This in itself wasn't enough to arouse suspicion in their co-workers since he'd taken to chauffeuring her pretty much everywhere as she neared the end of her pregnancy.

Angela was already on the couch in Brennan's office when they arrived – Booth lugging her computer bag and box of files that she'd left at his place – pretending to be engrossed in the latest issue of _People_, no doubt waiting for her so that she could grill her about the reunion.

"We on for lunch today?" Booth asked his partner-slash-girlfriend-slash-Baby-Mama once they'd exchanged greetings with the artist, forcing himself to adopt a more casual tone than he would have used had they been alone. They still hadn't discussed how or when they were going to share the news of their relationship with their friends and he didn't want her to feel like he was putting her on the spot.

"Of course," she agreed with a smile.

"Good." In what was quickly becoming a habit, he moved to kiss her but pulled back when he remembered that they had an audience.

Still, something in their body language must have given them away because Angela, who had closed her magazine and was now watching their interaction, piped up, "Did something happen between you two in Chicago?", narrowing her eyes suspiciously at them.

Booth looked over at Brennan, who responded with a slight shrug as if to say "It wasn't me". He thought they'd hidden it well. He was careful to keep his hands to himself as they came in.

"What makes you say that, Ange?" Brennan asked with the same feigned nonchalance he'd adopted, easing herself down onto the opposite end of the couch.

The artist glanced from one to the other and back again. "Both of you have that whole 'loved up' glow," she said simply.

Some undercover agents they were. Try as he might to act normal, he couldn't seem to wipe the stupid grin from his face, and neither, it seemed, could she. It wasn't just the sex either, though that was definitely one of the perks of being in love.

"I don't know what that means," Brennan told her innocently and Booth made a mental note to educate her later, perhaps with a practical demonstration.

"Cut the clueless act, sweetie," Angela complained, exasperated by her friend's skilful avoidance of the subject. "No one buys it. Except maybe Booth. He is kind of thick-skulled when it comes to you."

"Hey!" he cried. "I'm still here, you know."

"I hope you proved me wrong," she told him with a teasing smile.

He couldn't let that one go by. "As a matter of fact…" he agreed, grinning at her.

"Booth and I have decided to attempt an exclusive romantic and sexual relationship," Brennan blurted out with characteristic bluntness.

Her phrasing wasn't lost on her best friend. "Sexual, huh? Does that mean you guys…?"

Brennan nodded, and Booth was surprised to see that his normally forthright partner was blushing.

At her confirmation, Angela broke into one of the biggest grins he'd ever seen her give. "It's about damn time," she told them. "I thought we were all going to go old and grey waiting for you two to sort your selves out."

To Brennan, she added, "Just so you know, I want details. You owe me after all the pep talks I've given you."

Booth cleared his throat, deciding that now was the time to excuse himself. He didn't need to be there for the rest of their girl talk. "Well, I'm gonna leave you girls to it."

Now that Angela knew, he didn't see the harm in giving his girlfriend a quick goodbye kiss. "But I will see you two—" He grazed her belly with his palm "—at one." He couldn't resist kissing her a final time before straightening.

"Make sure she doesn't work too hard, Angela," he called back over his shoulder as he made his way to the door.

"Yeah, yeah," she agreed, waving him off good-naturedly. "That's easier said than done, my friend."

"You and Booth. Wow," he heard her say to Brennan in a low voice when she thought that he was out of earshot. "So, how was it?"

Like most children, he'd been taught that it was rude to listen to other people's conversations, but he couldn't deny the fact that he was curious about Brennan's answer. He hesitated when he reached the doorway, hoping that they wouldn't turn around.

"I don't really know how to describe it, Ange," was all Brennan said at first.

"That good, huh?" Angela ribbed her playfully.

"I'm not sure Booth would approve of me talking to you about this," Brennan told her in a dubious tone and he smiled at her loyalty. "He seems very adamant about keeping his sex life private."

"The post-date debrief is a time-honoured tradition among girlfriends," Angela protested.

"Technically it wasn't a date," Brennan pointed out.

"You had sex at the end," Angela reminded her. "That's either a date or a booty call, and since he flew six hundred miles to go to your high school reunion with you, I'm guessing it wasn't the latter."

There was a pause as Brennan considered this. "It was... It was the best night of my life, Ange," she confessed, once she seemed to decide that this in itself wasn't too explicit, and while Booth couldn't see her face from where he was standing, he could hear the smile in her voice. _"_I feel like I finally understand what he means when he talks about the difference between having sex and making love.

"And you know," she added in a conspiratorial tone, "what they say about sex during pregnancy is true. I can't remember the last time I was that satisfied."

"So despite the macho act, he's really a pussycat in the sack?" Angela asked with a smirk, apparently intrigued.

Booth cringed at her description. Personally he would have preferred something more manly, like 'tiger', but that was what the downside to eavesdropping he supposed: you were bound to hear something that you didn't like.

"I don't know what that means," Brennan told her, and he could imagine her expression as she tried to make sense of this question. "Booth is not a cat."

"Sure, sure," Angela said dismissively. "He adores you, you know. You and Baby Booth."

"Brennan," Brennan corrected her. "Since Booth and I aren't married, our child will most likely carry my name."

Angela let out an audible snort at this. "Trust me, there is no way you are gonna win that argument, sweetie."

* * *

For the rest of the morning, Booth resisted the urge to pick up the phone. He had work to do, and besides, Brennan wasn't the kind of girl you could have long pointless conversations with about who loved who more. She would probably say that since love was unquantifiable, it was impossible to determine that with any degree of certainty and just leave it at that.

Around twelve-thirty, he decided to pack it in. He wasn't going to get anything else done before it was time to go meet her anyway. He grabbed his suit jacket and keys and was just on his way out when he ran into Sweets, who must have been coming to see him.

"Agent Booth! You seem to be in quite a hurry. Is everything okay?" he asked, scurrying after him to the lift.

"Yeah."Booth grinned. "I'm taking my girl out for lunch," he told him.

"Your girl? You have a girlfriend?" Sweets repeated, looking confused.

"That's right," he agreed happily.

"What does Dr. Brennan think about this? You two are having a child together."

Booth couldn't resist teasing him a little. "I'd say she's pretty happy. We both are."

Comprehension dawned on Sweets' face. "That would suggest… Agent Booth, are you and Dr. Brennan dating?"

"I don't know if _dating_ is the right word for it, but yeah. Bones and I are in a relationship. Not a surrogate one," he felt the need to spell out for the psychologist's benefit. "A real one."

Sweets opened his mouth and then closed it again, at a loss for words. "How? When?"

"Chicago."

"At Dr. Brennan's reunion?" Sweets' brows furrowed in a mildly disapproving way that Booth didn't like.

"What? I thought this is what you wanted?" Wasn't he the one who was always telling them that the only thing separating their partnership from a normal, healthy relationship was sex?

Sweets looked around warily, waiting until a group of agents passed to suggest, "Why don't you come to my office?"

"No." He didn't have time for a therapy session. "Whatever you're gonna say, Sweets, you can say it here."

Sweets sighed. "Attending one's high school reunion can be a sobering experience," he began. "It forces us to examine our lives and the choices we've made—"

"How many reunions have you been to?"

"We're not talking about me, Agent Booth. We're talking about Dr. Brennan," Sweets complained in a long suffering tone. When Booth nodded for him to go on, he continued, "As I was saying, reunions have a way of resurrecting old insecurities that can be harmful to our present emotional wellbeing."

Booth snuck a peek at his watch. Ten minutes until he was supposed to be at the Jeffersonian. And if there was one thing Brennan hated, it was when he was late. "Yeah, yeah, would you just get to the point?" he asked impatiently.

Sweets sighed again. "You need to be careful," he told him bluntly. "It's possible that Dr. Brennan is feeling very vulnerable right now, between the pregnancy and the memories of her parents' abandonment and her subsequent stint as a foster child revisiting that period of her life are likely to have stirred up."

Booth thought back to the conversation they'd had by the window of their hotel room where she'd hinted at as much. "You don't think…? I mean that's not why she decided to give us a try, is it?" he asked. "Because she's scared of being alone, especially now, with the baby…" She hadn't said "I love you" back; he thought she just needed more time, but what if it was really because she didn't?

"You know I can't answer that, Agent Booth," Sweets told him. "Only Dr. Brennan can tell you why she decided to take a risk on the relationship. I'm merely suggesting that you proceed with extreme caution where someone like Dr. Brennan is concerned. I think we can agree that the last thing you want is to do further damage to her already fragile sense of trust."

Why did everyone think that he was going to screw this up? "You can relax, Sweets. I know what I'm doing," he assured him with more confidence than he felt. "I'm not gonna hurt her, okay?"

* * *

It was almost a quarter past one by the time he finally made it over to the Jeffersonian. Brennan was waiting on the sidewalk, pacing back and forth, phone in hand, as she scanned the street for him. She broke into a relieved smile when he pulled up beside her and hopped out to help her up into the passenger's seat.

"Hi," he said once they were both settled inside the Sequoia.

"Hi," she echoed, punctuating the greeting with a soft kiss. "Where have you been? I thought you must have gotten held up at a crime scene."

"Just talking to Sweets," he explained with a shrug, trying not to make it sound like it was a big deal. And it probably wasn't. Sweets tended to blow everything way out of proportion. He was a shrink, after all.

Still, he couldn't seem to erase the nagging doubts that their encounter had raised. Lunch could wait a few more minutes. He edged out of the loading zone and pulled into a parking space. "Bones, why did you change your mind about this? About us?" he asked, turning to her. "Before, you kept saying we weren't compatible."

"Does this have something to do with Sweets?" she asked, looking wary.

"No," he assured her, but he could tell that she wasn't convinced_. _"Okay, yes, but I still need to know your reasoning."

"Booth…"

"Please, Bones. I know you're not comfortable talking about this, and I'm trying really hard to respect that, but I want you to just answer me one thing, okay? Then we can drop it."

"Okay," she agreed, bracing herself for his question.

He sucked in a deep breath. "Do you love me?"

He watched her blanch slightly. "How can I be sure that what I feel is love when love is an abstraction?" she countered.

"You just know," he insisted. "When you love someone, you can't stop thinking about them. You want to be with them all the time. When they're happy, you're happy. When they're sad, you're sad. You would do anything for them, even die for them, because without them your own life means nothing. You can't imagine any future without them in it. That's how you know that you love someone."

He let her digest this for a moment before asking again, more gently this time, "Bones, do you love me?"

"Yes," she agreed softly. "Based on your criteria, it appears that I do."

He grinned, placing a tender kiss on top of her head before moving the start the car up again. "That's all I needed to hear."

* * *

_Can I ask people to please refrain from bashing Sweets too much as I am in the apparent minority of people who happen to like his character (and think everything he does is with good intentions)? Remember the 100th episode never happened here and neither did The Daredevil in the Mould.  
_

_Coming up: Telling Parker and birthing class..._


	28. Chapter 28

_Thanks as usual to everyone who reviewed. Here is the fast update I promised. The next installment (the birthing class) is mostly written so please let me know what you think and I'll try to get that and the second chapter of my new fic up some time in the next few days.  
_

* * *

Chapter 28.

Since it was Booth's turn to have Parker the following weekend, they agreed that they would tell him about their relationship then.

"This is for the baby," he announced, pulling a worn picture book from his backpack after they brought him home from soccer practice on Friday night. It was _Guess How Much I Love You?_. Booth recognised the cover from all the times he'd read it to him when he was a toddler. "It used to be mine but I don't need it anymore."

"That's very thoughtful of you, Parker," Brennan said, visibly touched by his gift. "Would you like to read it to her yourself? She's too young to understand the words, but it will help her to recognise your voice after she's born."

"She?" he repeated, his face pinched in uncertainty.

Brennan looked helplessly at Booth, clearly guilty at having let the pronoun slip.

"Yeah," Booth agreed, coming to her rescue. He took his son by the shoulders and steered him towards the couch, sitting down on the coffee table opposite him so that they were level with each other. "Listen, bub, we think the doctor might've been wrong when she said the baby was a boy. But you know, girls can be pretty cool too. Look at Bones." He smiled his reassurance at her and she offered a strained smile in return.

"I guess having a sister would be okay if she was like Bones," his son allowed dutifully.

"Well then you're in luck, because this baby is gonna be half Bones," Booth told him. "That means she'll probably look and act a lot like her."

"So she'll be really smart like Bones?" Parker asked, perking up at the thought.

When Booth glanced over at her, she was grinning. "Yeah, buddy. I'm sure she will," he agreed, ruffling his hair, pleased that his son was as enamoured with the idea of having a miniature Bones around as he was.

"Then maybe she _will_ understand what I'm saying," he insisted, setting the book on his lap and opening it to the first page.

"You read with him," he told Brennan, standing up. He snuck a quick kiss from her when his son wasn't looking. "I'll go make us some dinner. Grilled cheese okay?"

She nodded. "I'll eat anything as long as I don't have to cook it," she agreed tiredly.

From his place in the kitchen, he watched her settle herself on the couch next to Parker with a cushion behind her back as he began to read aloud. "'Little Nutbrown Hare, who was going to bed, held on tight to Big Nutbrown Hare's very long ears. He wanted to be sure that Big Nutbrown Hare was listening.' Is the baby listening?" he asked Brennan.

"Yeah, I bet she is," she assured him with an encouraging smile. "Keep going."

He continued reading as Little Nutbrown Hare and Big Nutbrown Hare found new ways to express their love for one another, stopping occasionally so that Brennan could help him sound out some of the more difficult words, urging him on patiently with exclamations of "Very good!" and "Excellent work!". She might not see it herself yet, but she was already a natural. He couldn't wait to watch her interact with her own child.

"'Then he lay down close by and whispered with a smile, "I love you right up to the moon and back'," his son finished finally, closing the book.

"I can see why you enjoyed this story as an infant, Parker," she told him. "It's very interesting. Although highly irrational, I appreciate the author's attempts to quantify an unquantifiable notion."

"Do you think the baby liked it?"he asked eagerly, ignoring the last part.

"Why don't you see for yourself?"She took his hand and placed it carefully on her belly.

"Whoa!" he cried after a moment, jerking it back in surprise. He looked up at Booth, who had forgotten his promise of grilled cheese and was just watching them now."Daddy, she kicked me!"

"That's her way of saying 'Hello'," he explained, and for once, his girlfriend didn't try to correct him.

Parker turned back to Brennan. "Is it okay if I say something back?" he asked her.

"Sure," she agreed. She was used to people - namely Booth - conversing with her abdomen by now.

He slid off the couch, crouching down so that he could address her belly. "Hello, baby. This is Parker, your big brother. Even though I wanted you to be a boy, you and me are gonna have lots of fun together. When you come out, I'll show you the PS3 Daddy got me for Christmas."

"It's gonna be a while before she can play PlayStation with you, Park," Booth warned him, trying not to laugh as he caught Brennan's eye. "But we can get some more books and you can read them to her."

While Booth prepared dinner, Parker entertained Brennan with a screening of current favourite movie, WALL-E, which, to his amusement, his girlfriend seemed to find fascinating. "I see," she remarked when WALL-E encountered the Axiom's obese passengers. "It's a social commentary on our time disguised as a dystopian narrative."

When they had all finished eating, and the movie was over, Booth switched off the TV. "Parker, Bones and I have something important that we need to tell you," he began, figuring that now was as good a time as any. His son was happy and relaxed and seemed to be enjoying all the attention that Brennan was paying him.

"Are you getting married?" Parker asked, taking them both by surprise.

"What? No," Booth assured him, not sure where he'd gotten that idea from. He wasn't even supposed to know that they were involved. "Bones has agreed to be my girlfriend."

He waited for Parker to get excited, or to lash out at him, but all he did was shrug. "I thought Bones was already your girlfriend," he said dismissively.

Booth exchanged stunned glances with Brennan. "Really? Why did you think that?" he pressed, determined to get to the bottom of it. He couldn't help feeling slightly miffed at his son's response. He'd been expecting more of a reaction from him.

"You're always together. And you're having a baby. That means she's your girlfriend," he explained.

It was all so simple, according to him, that Booth wondered why it had taken them – two grown adults – over six months to reach the same conclusion.

"You know, you really should get married," he told them. "Then we can live at Bones' house and go swimming all the time."

"That doesn't seem like a very good reason to get married," Brennan argued. "You and your father are already welcome to use my pool any time."

"So does that mean you're okay with this? Me and Bones?" Booth asked his son, remembering Brennan's fears that he would come to resent her and the baby.

"Bones is nice. And she knows lots of cool stuff," he agreed. "She's better than my friend Eric's stepmom."

Booth could see the alarm in Brennan's expression at his choice of words and the implication behind them. "You know I'm not actually your stepmother, Parker," she reminded him gently.

"Sure you are," he insisted. "You're my sister's mom."

Booth didn't like where this was going. He clapped his hands. "Okay, Park," he said, hoping to get him off the subject of marriage, "how about we watch one episode of _SpongeBob_ before bed?"

"Deal!" he agreed, scurrying off to his room to get the DVD.

"You okay?" Booth asked Brennan when he was gone. "I know how overwhelming this must be for you when you're still getting used to the idea of us."

"Fine," she agreed, laying her head on his shoulder, and not sure what else to say, Booth slid his own arm around her, playing with her hair idly as they waited for his son to return.

Five minutes into the second episode, Parker was asleep on Booth's other side. When he resisted all attempts to wake him, Booth scooped him up off the couch and carried him into his room.

Brennan was still waiting for him in the living room when he came back from tucking his son in.

"If Parker knows we're together, does that mean that I don't have to go home tonight?" she asked with a lopsided smile as he rejoined her on the couch.

If she were any other woman, he would have sent her back to her own place on principle, but this was Brennan. "Okay, but we are _not_ having sex with my kid in the next room," he told her. That was why he'd always vetoed sleepovers with girlfriends while his son was staying with him in the past: he didn't want to risk traumatising him.

"In that case," she agreed, "we should make the most of our time together when Parker leaves, because once our child is born, it's likely that we won't be having sex again for a very long time. Unless we leave her with a babysitter while we go somewhere else to engage in sexual intercourse, which seems irresponsible."

There was that damnable logic again. "You've made your point," he conceded with a defeated sigh. "What then do you suggest?"

She traced a painstakingly slow line along his sternum through the fabric of his t-shirt as she considered this. "I suggest that we practice making love quietly," she told him in a low voice, meeting his eyes with a fervent look. "That way we won't have to worry about waking the baby in the future."

As usual, she managed to make her plan sound perfectly reasonable. And as usual, he found that it was impossible to say no to her. "You, Bones," he murmured is a teasing tone as he closed the distance between them, "are incorrigible."

* * *

"Booth?" she whispered into the darkness that filled his bedroom some time later. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah, Bones," he agreed, even though he could feel himself teetering on the precipice of sleep, just in case it was something important. Since that first night at the hotel, he'd realised that sometimes it was easier for her to talk to him about things that were bothering her late at night. "What's wrong?"

She shifted closer to him, snuggling into his chest; when she didn't speak again for a long time, he thought that she must have drifted off herself, until finally, she said, so softly that he almost didn't hear her, "Even though it's not an accurate measurement, I love you to the moon and back."


	29. Chapter 29

_Thanks for the reviews. I was going to update my new fic but I haven't had a lot of time the last few days and I had more of this one written. It is coming, though._

* * *

Chapter 29.

"I enrolled us in a birthing class," Brennan announced as soon as her breathing returned to normal.

It wasn't exactly the kind of statement a guy wanted to hear right after sex. "You weren't thinking about that the whole time, were you?" Booth asked her, turning his head to look at her. If she was then he really hadn't been doing his job very well.

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm just a little preoccupied," she told him and he could tell that she had; if not the whole time, then at least for a good portion of it. "We only have three months until the baby's due." She eyed him sidelong with a guilty expression. "You're not upset, are you?"

He sighed, wondering where the sex-crazed Bones of a few days ago went. While he knew that it had to happen eventually, he hadn't expected her to lose her libido quite so soon. "No, of course not," he assured her, pulling her into his arms. "You're pregnant. I get that." It wasn't just about him. Besides, as much as it thrilled him to finally be able to make love to her whenever he wanted, cuddling with her like this was pretty nice too.

"Good, because the first class is on Friday night," she told him, less certain as she added, "Since we are now in a committed relationship, and you've already expressed your desire to witness the birth, I assume that you would like to be my partner?"

"Always," he agreed, craning his neck to place a feather-light kiss on her lips. "Let's not talk about birthing classes any more now, though, okay? I just wanna enjoy this moment." While he couldn't wait to meet their daughter, he was determined to take her advice and make the most of what little time alone they had left before she arrived.

"Okay," she said, tucking her head under his chin and after that they didn't talk about much at all.

* * *

On Friday, Booth picked Brennan up from the Jeffersonian as usual and they stopped by the Founding Fathers for dinner before heading across town to the clinic where the class would be held.

"I've been researching my options and I would like to begin interviewing midwives," Brennan told him on the drive over.

"What's wrong with Dr. Edwards?" he asked her. She couldn't still be jealous of her obstetrician; not when she was the one sharing his bed every night.

"I'm sure she's very capable," she allowed, "but I doubt that she would be willing to oversee the birth at my apartment."

If there were two words that should not be in the same sentence, they were 'birth' and 'apartment'. "Back up just a second there, Bones. You're not seriously considering…?"

"Delivering our child at home?" she supplied.

"Yeah," he agreed. Then, realising that she might interpret this as him giving her his blessing, he added, "No! You are not having the baby at home. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? What if something went wrong? You or the baby could die."

"It's not like I'm planning to squat alone in the woods, Booth," she protested. "The birth will be attended by a board-certified midwife. Besides, more foetal deaths occur as a result of hospital births than home births."

"This isn't a debate, Bones," he told her as gently as he could. As much as he would have liked to support her decision when she was the one who actually had to go through it, he couldn't take that chance with her life, or their daughter's. If they lost the baby over something as trivial as not having the right equipment, he knew that she would never forgive herself, and neither would he. "I don't care what kind of voodoo birth you have as long as it's in a hospital where there are plenty of doctors around."

Her expression darkened with annoyance but she seemed to understand that he wasn't going to budge on this matter. "Fine, but I want a natural birth," she insisted. "That means no drugs, no epidural, no episiotomy, no forceps… I want to do the whole thing myself."

"You know, Bones, you say that now." She had no idea how she was going to feel when that day finally came.

"You don't think I can?" she complained, seeming to take this as a personal challenge. "I happen to have a very high threshold for pain."

He almost smiled at her stubborn refusal to admit that she had limitations just like anyone else. "I didn't say you couldn't do it, Bones. I just think you might change your mind once you're in labour, that's all." He wanted the experience to be as easy on her as possible but as usual she was determined to do it the hard way.

"Women have been giving birth for thousands of years without the use of drugs or medical intervention, Booth," she assured him with the same unerring confidence. "There are plenty of other methods of pain relief that I can use – breathing exercises, visualisation, self-hypnosis…"

Self-hypnosis? Like that was going to work. "What if _I_ need drugs?" he insisted. Surely she didn't want him to suffer?

"Then you take them."

* * *

"'Holistic Childbirth'?" Booth read the sign on the door sceptically. He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that.

"It's a form of natural childbirth," Brennan explained. "It combines complementary and alternative medicine with meditation to create a positive physical, mental and spiritual birthing experience. Practitioners believe that the way that we enter the world shapes us, ergo, the calmer the environment a child is born into, the calmer the child."

He wondered idly if she'd committed the entire brochure to memory in preparation for this conversation. It all sounded like a load of hooey to him_. _"Alternative medicine? Bones, I thought we discussed this?"

"We did," she agreed. "You said that I could have whatever kind of birth I want as long as it was in a hospital. This is how I would like to give birth."

Even as he said it, he knew that he would come to regret making that deal with her eventually. "You realise you might not even get a choice?" Despite her careful planning, the baby would come at whatever time and in whatever way she felt like.

"Dr. Edwards said that since the baby and I are both in good health, as long as she isn't breached and she doesn't go into distress I shouldn't need a caesarean," she reminded him, a hint of smugness in her tone.

He had run out of arguments by then, so he decided that he should probably just go with it. They had a deal, after all. He sighed. "So what do I have to do?"

* * *

Ten minutes into the class, Booth was even less convinced that this was the right place for them. He wasn't exactly sure what the instructor – whose name he discovered was 'Carly' – meant when she talked about the "sexuality of labour", but there was nothing about the process of watching his partner struggle through what would probably be the worst pain of her life that sounded even remotely sexy to him. If anything, he would be glad when it was over.

When Carly finished giving her opening spiel, she directed them to form a circle on the floor, "mommies in front and daddies behind".

"I don't have a child yet, therefore I am not a 'mommy'," Brennan complained under her breath as they wandered around the room with their mat, looking for a suitable spot. "You, however, are already a 'daddy', I suppose, although that word sounds ludicrous coming from the mouth of a forty-year-old woman."

"You have a kid growing inside you, Bones," he reminded her. "That makes you a mom. Now would you sit down?"

Once everyone was seated, Carly suggested that they go around the circle introducing themselves and their babies to the rest of the group.

"All of the other foetuses have names, Booth," Brennan whispered as their turn drew nearer. "Perhaps we should give ours one now?"

Trust her to freak out about not bringing her homework to class. "This isn't a pop quiz, Bones," he explained, suppressing a smirk. "She's not gonna give us an F because we haven't decided on a name for our baby yet."

"We haven't even discussed it," she insisted.

If she was this competitive now… He made a mental note never to let her sign their child up for a play group. "The baby's not due for three more months, Bones. We've got plenty of time to figure it out," he assured her, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze.

He stopped talking when he realised that all eyes were on them. "Um, hi, I'm Seeley, and this here is, Bo—" He had to force himself to remember that her name wasn't actually 'Bones' "—Temperance."

"Our baby doesn't have a name," Brennan blurted out before anyone could ask them about it.

Scattered laughter erupted from the group. "That's okay," Carly told her. "Choosing a name takes time. So, would one of you like to tell us about yourselves? How long have you been married?"

"We aren't married," Brennan told her. She turned her head to mutter to Booth, "Why does everyone think that we have to be married to have a child? This is the twenty-first century."

"I'm sorry. Together, then?" Carly amended.

Booth was on the verge of answering with the same white lie that Brennan had the last time they were asked that question when she beat him to it.

"Tomorrow it will be two weeks."

He cringed inwardly. How was it that she could fib almost fluently at her reunion but not here in front of a bunch of people that they would probably never see again?

"That's a joke, right?" one of the other mothers – whose name Booth couldn't remember – asked.

Brennan shook her head, looking slightly bewildered.

"But you must be at least six months pregnant!" another mother said.

"Seven," Brennan corrected her. "Although I fail to see how that's relevant. Conceiving a child isn't contingent upon the parents being in a relationship."

"So, like, you guys had sex and you got pregnant and now you're dating?" a girl who looked like she couldn't be much older than twenty-one asked. "I mean, he is the father, right?"

"Of course I'm the father!" Booth snapped back, indignant on behalf of both himself and Brennan. "What kind of question is that?"

"It's true. I specifically requested the use of his sperm," Brennan supplied helpfully.

"Bones!" he hissed, mortified that she would bring that up here of all places. "Could we please not discuss my sperm in public?" It was bad enough when she said things like that in front of their family and friends but everyone here was a complete stranger.

"They asked!" she insisted, growing defensive. "Besides, they already know that your sperm had to be involved for you to be the father."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to tell them about the… you know." He didn't want them all thinking that he was sterile, and anyway, as far as he was concerned, the details of their child's conception were private. "Look, how the baby got here isn't important, all right? All that matters is that we're doing this together now."

He was sure that she would have continued arguing with him if Carly hadn't interrupted. "Clearly the two of you still have some issues that you need to resolve before you can create a harmonious birthing environment for your child. That's why I'm going to recommend that you see a therapist before returning to class."

"We're already seeing a therapist," Brennan told her.

"Then I suggest you stick with it."

Brennan turned back to Booth. "Did she just ask us to leave?"she whispered.

"I think she did," he agreed. Once he managed to get himself up off the floor, he slid his hands under her arms and hoisted her to her feet. "C'mon, Bones, let's get out of here. I'll take you out for ice cream instead."


	30. Chapter 30

_Thanks for the reviews. I was pleased to hear that you guys find the idea of B&B getting kicked out of birthing class as funny as I do. It was sort of inspired by that scene in The Verdict in the Story when the judge has to separate them.  
_

* * *

Chapter 30.

"I can't believe you got us kicked out of birthing class," Brennan complained as they made their way down the steps outside the clinic.

Booth snorted. "Me? You were the one who wouldn't stop talking about my sperm!"

"Well if it wasn't for your sperm, we wouldn't be here," she reminded him seriously.

"I guess I can't really argue with that," he agreed, grinning sidelong at her, even though he knew that she hadn't meant it as a joke. When she offered a weak smile in return, he said, "You know, Bones, so what if they kicked us out?" They still had plenty of time to prepare for the birth. "I'd rather spend my Friday night with you."

He reached for her hand, watching her expression as his fingers closed around hers. He loved the way she still looked surprised at this simple gesture, even though they'd been making love on an almost daily basis for weeks now. It was further proof of his theory that while she may have had sex with other men before him, real intimacy was something that only they shared.

The evening was warm for late October, so they left the car behind in the parking lot. "Bones, can I ask you something?" he asked after they'd walked in silence for a while, rushing on before she could point out that he already had. "Do you ever wish that we'd… y'know… waited to have a kid?" He might have told her that it didn't matter how the baby was conceived, but deep down, he couldn't help feeling that it did. Starting a family should have been a decision that they'd made together; if not before, then after they'd learned that she was pregnant. The fact that it wasn't was something that he would always regret.

"You mean do I wish that we'd waited until we were in a sexual relationship like we are now before deciding to have a child?" she checked.

"Pretty much, yeah," he agreed. "Although that's not exactly the way I would've put it." It wasn't so much the sex as the relationship part. He would have been fine with them taking the artificial insemination route if for some reason they weren't able to conceive on their own, but this had been about preventing any kind of physical or emotional involvement on his part.

"If we had then we wouldn't be having this baby," she pointed out. "We might not even be together."

It was true that the two of them had grown closer as a result of her pregnancy. "So what you're saying is, you're glad we did it the way we did?" he pressed.

"I think so. Yes," she agreed. "These past seven months have been the happiest of my life. I imagine that feeling will only increase when our child arrives."

He decided then that he was probably over-thinking it. Sure, it might not have come about the way that he'd dreamed, but the result was the same: the woman he had loved for five years loved him back and they were having a baby, and in the end, wasn't that was life was all about?

* * *

"What d'you think of the name 'Gemma'?" Booth asked.

They were sitting opposite one another in the window booth of an all-night diner similar to the one they usually frequented, albeit with a lot more gimmicky fifties style decor.

"It reminds me of Gemma Harrington," Brennan told him, sipping her mineral water.

"Exactly. She _was_ the one who brought us together," he reminded her. If he hadn't needed help on that case, then they never would have met.

"Actually, it was Cam, and I'm not sure that we should name our child after a murder victim, Booth," she insisted, wrinkling her nose in disdain at the idea. "I'm not superstitious like you and even I think that would be a bad omen."

"It is a little morbid," he agreed, dismissing the name, along with several others with connections to other cases that they'd worked on. 'Camille' was definitely out as well unless they wanted to run the risk of offending Angela. He sighed. "I just want her to have a good name, y'know? Something meaningful, like 'Parker' was for me."

"I don't have a story like that," she admitted. "You're the only person who's ever died to save me."

"What about your mom? We could always call her 'Christine'."

"That wasn't even her real name," she pointed out.

"It was to you," he told her. "Besides, there is no way that we are having 'Ruth Booth'." Aside from the fact that it rhymed, it made him think of a mousey fat kid who would no doubt be teased mercilessly by her peers.

"'Booth'? Shouldn't her last name be 'Brennan'?" Brennan insisted. "'Ruth Brennan'. See? That works fine." He couldn't tell if she actually liked the name or she was just using it to prove her point.

"Look, you're an anthropologist, so you believe in respecting tradition, right?" he asked her, deciding that this was the most logical argument at his disposal.

"Of course," she agreed.

"Well, it's traditional for kids to have their fathers' last names," he reminded her, turning on his most charming smile for good measure.

"In patriarchal societies where women and children are considered to be little more than property," she complained, refusing to be won over.

"I don't think of you and the baby as my property, all right?" he assured her. "It would just be nice to have that connection with her." He didn't want anyone else questioning their daughter's paternity and this seemed like the way to avoid that.

"If it's that important to you, then we could always hyphenate her surname," she suggested. "Then we don't have to choose."

"Baby Booth-Brennan," he tried out with a smile. In a way, it was fitting; evidence of their long-standing partnership.

"Brennan-Booth," she corrected him.

As much as he wanted his name to come first, he couldn't deny the fact that it had a better ring to it that way. "Brennan-Booth," he repeated. "I like it."

"Me too," she told him.

They would still have to decide on the rest of her name, but he was pleased that they seemed to be making progress. "Do you see what we did there, Bones?" he asked her. "We just agreed on something."

* * *

On Monday night, Booth was stuck filing reports so he called Brennan and told her that he would meet her apartment when he was done.

When he let himself in about an hour later, he found her on the couch, dressed in a pair of baggy sweatpants and one of his old t-shirts, a book propped against her ample belly.

She closed it as soon as she saw him. "Hi," she greeted him, trying to sit up.

In the end, he had to help her. "Hey." He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "How's our little Brennan-Booth?"

"Well, if she was born tonight, she would have approximately a nine out of ten chance of survival," she told him. "So all things considered, she's doing quite well."

"Glad to hear it." Still, he hoped that she didn't go into labour any time soon, not least of all because they were woefully underprepared. "Speaking of birth, I feel bad that you didn't get to finish your class, so I got you this," he told her, producing a DVD from his coat pocket. "I thought we could watch it together. I can't promise that I'll change my mind, but if there's one thing I've learned from you, it's not to jump to conclusions without all of the evidence."

* * *

"Wow," Booth said, pushing the stop button on the remote while he tried to digest what he'd just seen. The fact that he'd watched it on the one hundred and fifty inch flat screen he'd begged Brennan to buy only made it that much worse.

When he looked down at her – stretched out beside him with her head in his lap, a pillow tucked under her belly – her eyes were shining the way they did whenever he brought her a particularly gruesome set of remains.

"That was fascinating, wasn't it?" she agreed, shifting onto her back.

"No, I mean, wow, I didn't expect there to be so much… blood," he confessed. Parker had already been cleaned up by the time he got to hold him; until now, his only frame of reference had been TV, where babies came out covered in only trace amounts of goo.

"It's not actually blood, Booth," she corrected him, ever the scientist. "It's called 'lochia', from the Greek _lochos_, meaning 'childbirth'. It's a mixture of blood, mucus, and placental tissue."

He knew that she meant it to be reassuring, but all he could think was, 'Ew'. That was why he was an FBI agent and not a squint.

"How can you be so calm?" he asked her. "Aren't you scared?" He was terrified just thinking about it. That was why he was so resistant to the idea of her having the baby at home to start with.

"Of course I'm scared, Booth," she agreed, "but this is what my body is designed to do. I'm less concerned about giving birth than I am about whether or not I'm capable of being a good mother." She hesitated for a moment, as though weighing up what she was about to say, before adding, "I know that it's not rational to be jealous, but sometimes I even worry that our child will like you more than she likes me."

Her admission shocked and saddened him. He had no idea that she felt that way. "Bones, how can you even say that?"

"I'm not warm and affectionate like you," she said quietly. "What if she thinks that I don't love her?"

"Hey, you are warm and affectionate," he assured her, combing his fingers through her hair, which seemed to get softer as her pregnancy progressed. At least she was with the people that she loved. He experienced that side of her all the time, especially when they were in bed together.

"Anyway, you're the one with the breasts," he teased her. "That makes me kind of redundant for at least the first year of her life."

She chuckled despite herself. "That's your idea of saying something comforting?" she complained in a mock indignant tone, batting his arm feebly with the pillow.

"You like facts," he reminded her, wresting it out of her hands and shoving it behind him, out of her reach. "So, kids need their moms. That's a fact. Besides, it made you laugh, didn't it?"

"I suppose it did," she allowed with a lopsided smile.

He found a movie on one of the channels and they watched it together in silence, him stroking her hair while she tried not to fall asleep.

"Bones?" he said after a while, even though he wasn't sure that she was still with him. He was actually amazed that she'd made it all the way through the DVD.

"Mmm?" she replied groggily.

"If you still want talk to a midwife, then I think we should." It couldn't hurt to find out more about it.

Her eyes fluttered open. "Really?"

"Yeah," he agreed, ceasing his ministrations long enough to drop a light kiss to her forehead. "Really."

"I thought you were opposed to the idea?" she asked, rubbing the heel of her palm over her eyes to wake herself up more fully.

"I was," he admitted, "but seeing what you have to go through… I want you to be happy with whatever we decide."

She broke into a grin on hearing that he was very slowly coming around, cupping his face in her hands and pulling it down so that she could reward him with a tender kiss. "I know I don't say it as often as you would like, but I love you, Booth," she told him.

It was only the second time that she'd uttered those words to him; one of the advantages of her not saying them very often was that he knew that when she did, she meant them. He kissed her again. "I love you too, Bones."


	31. Chapter 31

_Thanks for the reviews. Interest seems to have waned again. Hopefully you'll find this chapter more stimulating!  
_

* * *

Chapter 31.

"You are so beautiful," Booth murmured, caressing Brennan's sleep flushed cheek with the backs of his fingers.

They had just woken up after one of the languid early morning lovemaking sessions that had quickly replaced getting coffee together as part of their weekend routine.

"You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself," she teased him, laughing at her own colloquialism in that way that was uniquely hers.

She was so unlike anyone else that he'd ever met. "Marry me." The words slipped out of their own accord before he could stop them.

"Are we role-playing?" she asked, breaking into a sly grin at what she obviously thought was some kind of new sex game.

"No, Bones, I'm serious." This wasn't that way that he'd imagined himself proposing to her, but now that it was out there, he realised that he didn't want to take it back. He wanted this – him, her, waking up together – forever. "Let's get married."

He was able to pinpoint the exact moment that she understood because her smile wilted, replaced by an expression that could only be described as dread. "Booth," she said in a warning tone.

It was too late to turn back now. He'd already placed his bet. "What?" he asked, ignoring her look. "We're already having a baby together. Why not just do it? We don't need a big wedding. We could just go down to the courthouse…"

He trailed off when she sat up, turning to face him, the blankets clutched to her chest with one hand. "You're saying that because you, or more accurately, your sperm, impregnated me, you feel that it's your obligation to marry me?" she translated, but he could hear the scorn in her voice and he knew that he was losing ground.

"That is not what I meant, okay? You're twisting my words."

"So you would still be proposing to me now if I wasn't pregnant?" she pressed.

It was a trap; if he said 'no', then he would just be proving her point. "Yes!" he told her. He didn't need another six years to know that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

He could tell by her wary expression that she didn't believe him.

"I love you, Bones – you and our baby. That's why I asked you to marry me," he tried to explain, reaching for her hand, but she shifted it away.

"We've barely been together a month, Booth," she protested. "Don't you think it's a little soon to be talking about marriage?"

"Of course it's soon, Bones!" he insisted, sitting up too. "We're gonna have a kid soon!" They only had ten weeks left until the baby was due. They didn't have time to date. "We're having a kid, and we haven't talked about where we're gonna live, or if we're even gonna live together…" The couldn't keep travelling back and forth between their apartments. Not with two kids - including a newborn - in tow.

It was clear that she wasn't interested in having this conversation with him. "I can't listen to this right now," she complained, sliding out of bed. "I need some time to think."

"What is there to think about?" he asked, watching her yank out the various pieces of her clothing that had made their way into his dresser drawers in the months that they'd been almost-but-not-quite-living-together. He didn't want her to think about it. He wanted her to know, like he did. "How long is the appropriate amount of time to wait before bringing this up? Until we're elbow deep in diapers? Until our kid's first day of school? Until she goes to college? I don't see why we can't talk about this now so that we at least know where this is headed."

"What do you mean 'where this is headed'?" she asked, struggling to pull on a pair of jeans. He considered going to help her, like he normally would, but he wasn't about to make it easier for her to leave. "You know how I feel about marriage, Booth. You've always known. If you misinterpreted this situation in some way…"

"Misinterpreted?" Could she really blame him when she'd been sending him mixed signals from the day that they met? "You said you didn't want kids, either," he reminded her, "and the next thing I knew you were practically begging me to give you my sperm!" She was the one who started this: her and her sudden baby mania. He was fine with the way things were. Well maybe not fine, but okay. Resigned.

She had finally managed to get her jeans on and was now working on buttoning her shirt. "I did not 'beg' you!" she complained. "I asked and you agreed! How is that 'begging'?"

"You didn't exactly leave me much of a choice, Bones," he insisted. "It was either me or some other guy – like Fisher."

"At least Fisher wouldn't have tried to pressure me into marrying him out of some misguided notion of male duty!" she retorted.

He hated when she did that: tried to wrap everything up neatly, as though he were incapable of having any thoughts and feelings that weren't dictated to him by his base instincts. It was definitely one of her more irritating qualities. "Here we go with the anthropology crap!" he snapped back. "Why don't you stop quoting your little science journals and tell me what _you_ want?"

"I'm trying!" she cried. "It's not my fault that you don't listen!"

"No, Bones, all I'm hearing is what you _don't_ want," he told her with a coldness that surprised him. He couldn't believe that this was happening to him again. Things were supposed to be different this time. "You don't wanna marry me, you don't wanna move in together or you would have suggested it by now, you don't want to commit to this relationship in any way, but you still reserve the right to have sex with me whenever you feel like it… I'm pretty much just a glorified stud to you, aren't I? And no, I don't mean that figuratively," he added before she could pretend not to grasp his meaning.

She paused with her fingers on the last button, meeting his eyes with a look of stunned disbelief. "How can you say that when I've gone out of my way to make you feel included?" she asked him. "You wanted visitation rights so I gave them to you, you wanted to contribute financially so I let you even though I'm perfectly capable of supporting my own child, you wanted her to have your name so I compromised on that too…"

He wished he could agree with her that it was enough, but it wasn't. Not anymore. "But you won't marry me." He knew that he should let it go like she wanted him to, but he couldn't after the way that she'd hurt him: first by rejecting his proposal, then by refusing to believe that it was genuine… Exactly like Rebecca. "You're all about logic," he reminded her. "Well _this_ is the logical thing for us to do. Even Parker thinks we should get married!"

"Parker is eight years old!" she reminded him. "He's hardly an authority on adult relationships. The only reason he thinks that we should get married is so that he can have a pool!"

He didn't want to fight with her. He really didn't. This wasn't how he'd envisioned the day going. "Can you honestly tell me that you can't ever see yourself wanting to marry me?" he asked, almost pleading now. He was willing to take a raincheck if she really wasn't ready, but it didn't seem fair that she was taking it off the table without even considering what he wanted. "I saw what you wrote in your book."

"What book?" she asked, confused. "Kathy and Andy aren't married."

"No, the one about us," he explained. "You know, where we were married and having a kid together."

She sucked in a sharp breath. "You read my book? When?"

"After you got out of hospital, when I was staying with you. You left your laptop on the table…"

"So you thought you would just go through my files?" she finished for him. "I don't believe you!" She snatched her cell phone off the bedside table and stormed out of the bedroom as fast as she could at close to eight months pregnant.

"Bones, wait," he called. "Where are you going?"

"The lab," she tossed back over her shoulder, stopping just long enough to collect her laptop and purse for the dining room table.

They had already agreed that she wouldn't work weekends anymore but apparently one fight meant that she didn't have to listen to anything he said. "At least let me drive you," he insisted, hurriedly pulling on his own clothes as he scrambled after her.

"No," she told him firmly, plucking her coat from the coat track and struggling into it. "I'll call a cab. Right now I just want to be alone."

"Don't do this, Temperance," he implored. "Don't throw away everything we've built because you're scared." When even her real name failed to elicit a response from her, he decided to resort to more drastic measures to get her attention. "Bren!"

She froze with her hand on the door handle, rounding on him, blue eyes flashing, angrier than he'd ever seen her. "Don't you dare call me that, Booth! You have no right. That book was private. Do you have any idea how violated I feel knowing that you read it?" She wiped furiously at her eyes, trying not to cry, and he had to resist the urge to walk over to and wrap her in his arms, knowing that she would only push him away.

"Bones, look, I'm sorry," he told her sincerely. "I promise it won't happen again. Now would you please come sit down so that we can talk about this?"

"You know, you say that, but how am I supposed to believe you when you already betrayed my trust once?" She shook her head angrily, dismissing his request. "I'm going to the lab," she repeated, opening the door. "If you're serious about trying to salvage this relationship then you will not try to follow me."

* * *

_I know, I know - I'm horrible! But we all knew it was only a matter of time before Booth proposed! Well not really, but before the M word came up.  
_


	32. Chapter 32

_Thanks for the reviews. I was glad to see people haven't lost interest in this story yet._

* * *

Chapter 32.

For the rest of the day, Booth tried to honour Brennan's request for space, but that night, as he prepared to go to bed without her, he was struck by the overwhelming need to hear her voice.

"Booth," she complained when she finally picked up her cell, "I told you not to call me," but he still felt a burst of triumph at the fact that she'd known it was him and answered anyway.

"I'm not calling for you," he told her nonchalantly. "I'm calling for little Not-Gemma-Not-Christine-Not-Ruth."

"Who?"

"The baby." They really needed to give her a name. "Tonight is the first night in months that I wasn't there to say goodnight to her." He always whispered the same thing: _Goodnight, I love you_.

"You telephoned a foetus to say goodnight?" she repeated sceptically. "That's very sentimental, Booth."

"What can I say? I'm a sentimental guy," he agreed, pleased that she was still talking to him, "which is why I need you to put the phone where she can hear me."

"I'm not sure that will work, Booth," she protested.

"Humour me, Bones."

She sighed. "Is it private? What you want to tell her?"

"No," he assured her. In fact, he was counting on her listening in.

"Then I'll put you on speakerphone so I can hear when you're done." She pressed a few buttons. "Okay," she said, further away now.

"Hi, sweetheart," he greeted their still nameless daughter. "It's Daddy. I love you so much – you and Mommy." He wasn't really sure what else to say, so he finished hastily, "Goodnight."

There was a muffled click and then Brennan was back on the line. "Goodnight, Booth."

* * *

"Hey."

Booth looked up from the file he was reviewing to see Brennan hovering uncertainly outside the door to his office. "Bones! What're you doing here? Is the baby okay?"

She moved closer, her hand shifting unconsciously to her belly at the mention of their daughter. "I know it's not rational, but she doesn't move as much when you're not around. The only explanation I can come up with is that she misses the sound of your voice."

"Is that why you came over?" he asked her, struggling to hide his disappointment. "For the baby?"

"No," she confessed. "I miss you too. I couldn't sleep last night after you called. I kept thinking about what happened. I shouldn't have said all those things. I don't know what came over me."

"It's called a 'fight', Bones," he teased her gently, relieved that she didn't seem to be angry at him anymore. He flashed her a hopeful grin. "Come here."

She did, cautiously, and when she was standing in front of him, he slid his arms around her waist, resting his cheek on her belly. A moment later, he felt her hands on the back of his head, cradling it against her, her fingernails lightly grazing his scalp.

"You realise we're gonna have to talk about it eventually?" he asked her after a while. As much as he wanted to forget the whole thing and start over as if nothing had happened, he couldn't ignore some of the things that were said; not when they were bound to come up again.

"Yes, but not now," she said, her voice muffled by his hair.

"Not now," he agreed.

* * *

That night after work, Booth picked up some Thai food and drove over to Brennan's place like he had countless times over the years, only he couldn't remember ever feeling this nervous about seeing her before.

He could tell that she was anxious too, because she barely touched anything on her plate; just enough to satisfy him.

"So…" he began once it looked like they'd both eaten all they were going to.

"Now?" she asked, looking up at him apprehensively, and he wondered if some part of her had been hoping that he would forget why he'd come over.

"Yeah." If they put it off too much longer, he was afraid that they'd wind up having make up sex, and he didn't want endorphins clouding his judgement when they had this conversation.

"Okay," she agreed. "Where do we start?"

"How about easiest to hardest?" he suggested. He decided to bite bullet and go first. "I'm sorry I read your book, Bones. I really am. I should have waited for you to show it to me."

"It doesn't matter now," she told him. "I deleted it."

"Why would you do that?" he asked her. She'd obviously spent a lot of time on it and if he remembered right, it was good.

"You weren't supposed to see it. No one was. I don't even know why I wrote it."

"Maybe because deep down you really do want to get married some day?" he suggested, taking a leaf out of Sweets' book, even though he knew how she felt about psychoanalysis.

"No, Booth, I don't," she protested. "Not now – maybe not ever."

"Then this isn't gonna to work," he told her.

"Because I won't marry you?" she supplied, her voice rising sharply.

"No, Bones, because you won't even consider it," he explained. "You're making decisions that effect both of us, but what about me? What about what _I_ want? Does that even matter to you?"

"Of course it matters, Booth," she insisted.

He took out a velvet box. Inside was the ring that he'd bought for her that afternoon after leaving the office. "This is yours," he told her without opening it. He put it back in his pocket before she could start panicking; he knew better than to propose again so soon. "I'm going to hold onto it for you. When you're ready, you tell me and I'll give it to you."

"What if I'm never ready?" she asked quietly.

He dropped his head into his hands, covering his mouth to keep from saying something that he would later regret. "I'm trying here, Bones, but you need to meet me halfway."

"You can't be 'half married', Booth," she argued. "That's an oxymoron. You're either married or you're not."

In other words, one of them was going to win this battle and the other was going to lose. Unless… "We could if we moved in together." It wouldn't do much to appease his Catholic guilt over fathering a second child out of wedlock, but at least he wouldn't have to miss out on time with his daughter.

"I'm over thirty weeks pregnant, Booth," she reminded him. "Now is not the optimal time for me to be moving."

"So I'll move in with you."

"I don't have a room for Parker."

"So we'll give Parker the baby's room and she can sleep in with us until we find a bigger place." This time she didn't answer, staring intently at a spot on the rug. "Do you even want to live with me, Bones?" he when she continued to avoid eye contact with him.

"Eventually," she agreed in an uncertain tone that made him think that she was just saying that because she thought it was what he wanted to hear.

"But not right now?"he pressed.

She looked up at him helplessly. "I can't. Every relationship I've ever had has been casual, Booth. I need time to adjust."

But they'd run out of time. The baby wasn't going to wait for her to sort out her commitment issues. "So basically, you wanna keep doing what we've been doing, but you need an escape hatch in case you decide you wanna bail like you did when things got too serious with Sully and all of your other boyfriends?" he translated, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone. He shook his head sadly. "Then this really isn't gonna work." He was tired of being the only one who was all in. He couldn't be in a relationship with someone who was already making plans for the end.

"Are we breaking up?" she asked timidly, as if she wasn't sure that she wanted to hear the answer.

He hadn't really thought about it that way, but when he looked back on their conversation, he realised that she was right. "Yeah, Bones, I guess we are."

A tear spilled from her eye, trickling down her cheek.

"But you need to know that once it's over, it's over," he told her, resisting the urge to reach over and brush it away with his thumb. "We can't go back to the way things were before, because if we break up, that makes you my ex. And if you're my ex, I can't hang out with you anymore, because eventually we'll slip up and have sex and be right back where we started and we're not the only ones who are gonna get hurt in all of this. Do you understand what I'm saying? No more lunches, no more take out, no more after work drinks… We need to make it a clean break."

"What about our partnership?" she asked, drying her eyes with her sleeve.

After almost five months of her being confined to the lab, it was starting to feel more like an idea than the reality it had once been. He didn't think it would hurt the team if they took the opportunity to dissolve it completely now that they were no longer partners in any sense of the word. "You said you're not coming back into the field after the baby's born, right? So there's no reason you can't send one of your squints out with me to the crime scenes," he told her. "If I need anything, I'll talk to Cam." They wouldn't even have to see each other.

"Cam is your ex and yet you've been able to maintain a congenial relationship with her," she pointed out. "Can't you do the same with me?"

"No, because it's not the same, Bones," he argued. "I'm not in love with her. I never was." It didn't make his heart ache to look at her. He could be around her and not think about what he'd lost.

"But you were in love with me?" she asked.

"Am," he corrected her. Part of him always would be. That was why he needed to put as much distance between them as possible until he could figure out how to pack away those feelings. "But you were right. We're not compatible. We don't want the same things."

She acknowledged this with a tearful nod. "We'll need to make arrangements for the baby," she told him. "I assume you'll want joint physical custody? I'll call my lawyer and have her draw up a preliminary agreement. Then we can negotiate the terms. I'm going to recommend daily visitiation rights until the baby is weaned and then perhaps alternating weeks. I think that would be best."

He knew that he must look as heartsick as he felt, because she added, "Don't worry, I'll make sure that your time with her is coordinated with Parker's visits. I know how important it is to you that they bond as siblings."

It wasn't just that. "When Parker was a baby, he couldn't be away from Rebecca for very long because she was breastfeeding, so she would drop him off with me while she went shopping or to the movies or to get her hair done," he told her. "Sometimes, when she came to pick him up, I would think about just turning off my phone and pretending that I wasn't home so that I could have a few more hours with him. Once or twice I even imagined myself taking him and running to Mexico or something. It killed me to watch her drive away with him, not knowing when I was gonna see him again."

"I'm sorry, Booth," she said, reaching out reflexively to pat his leg before she seemed to realise how inappropriate this would be and retract her hand. "That must have been very difficult for you."

"My point is, no matter how much time you wanna give me, it'll never be enough," he explained. "That's why I swore to myself that if I ever had another kid, it would be with someone that I was gonna spend the rest of my life with. And yet, here we are."

But maybe they didn't have to be. He still had a chance to do the right thing. "What happened to that contract?" he asked her. "The one you wanted me to sign when you found out you were pregnant?"

He could tell that she was surprised by his question. "You told me you weren't comfortable with it so I destroyed it," she assured him. "But my lawyer might still have a copy. Why?"

He considered telling her that he was just making sure that she had gotten rid of it, but maybe she was right to want to do this alone; maybe it was better for their daughter to have one home, one family, one life, than to be bounced back and forth like a ping pong ball the way Parker had been.

"Because I've changed my mind," he told her before he could rethink what he was about to do. "I wanna sign it. I want you to have full custody like we agreed."

"But you love her," she insisted.

"That doesn't make her mine." It was three months before he could convince her to let him call himself a father, and even then, his paternal rights had remained tenuous. He wasn't even sure that they would hold up in a court of law given the nature of their original agreement.

"You want me to take a paternity test, is that it?" she asked. "I already told you, I hadn't been sexually active for months before she was conceived, but if that's what you need to feel secure..."

"No, Bones, I know that _biologically_ I'm her father," he assured her, "but there's a lot more to being a parent than jerking off in a cup."

For a moment, she just stared at him in bewilderment, as though he were speaking one of the few languages that she wasn't familiar with. "I don't understand. What are you saying? You don't want the baby anymore?"she asked in a vulnerable tone that would have broken his heart if it hadn't already been shattered. "You _are_ her father, Booth."

"Then why is it that when it comes to making decisions for her, you fight me every step of the way?" he asked her as every insecurity that he'd felt for the past eight months rose up to the surface. "I get that you're the one who's pregnant, Bones, but shouldn't I be entitled to some kind of say about where and how my kid is born and where she's gonna live and how she's gonna be raised? But no, it's always about you and what you want and I can't say anything because I'm not even supposed to be involved."

He doubted that she could look more wounded if he'd struck her. "I had no idea that's how you felt, Booth," she confessed. "In future, I will try to be more respectful of your feelings and opinions."

"You think you will be, but I've done this before, Bones," he reminded her. "I know how it goes. At first it's all nice, and civil, everybody trying to do the right thing, and then all of a sudden you're demanding two Christmases in a row so you can go on vacation with your new boyfriend, and if say no, I'm the bastard who wouldn't let my kid spend the holidays with his mom."

"I'm not Rebecca, Booth," she insisted. "I would never hurt you like that."

But she had. She'd done nothing but hurt him since the day she asked him to let her have their baby without him. "You know what, Bones? You already have. So I'll sign whatever you want me to sign, but I'm done with this." He got up from the couch and started walking towards the door.

"It sounds like you're giving me an ultimatum," she called after him.

When he turned around she was standing up too. "I wouldn't do that to you, Bones," he assured her, "because I know I'd never win."

"Fine," she said angrily. "I'll marry you."

"It's too late, Bones," he told her. The moment had already passed. "You can't just say yes because you don't want me to break up with you. That's not how this is supposed to work."

"So I guess this is it then," she said.

"I guess it is," he echoed sadly.

* * *

_Before anyone gets too upset, I just want to say that this was planned from the beginning. Since this is an AU version of season 5, I needed to find a way for Brennan to experience the same character growth that she did as a result of "losing" Booth on the show. I can promise you now, though, that the seperation won't last seven months and that there will be no Hannah (or equivalent). There won't even be any B&B-less chapters! So please just bear with me. You won't be sorry.  
_

_Next chapter: Parker reacts to the break up, Angela tries (literally) to slap some sense into Booth, and a baby shower...  
_


	33. Chapter 33

_Thanks for the reviews. I would particularly like to thank Rankor01 and SouthunLady for your words of support. I wasn't going to post again this weekend after receiving some extremely hateful comments (including one that not only attacked my story, but my moral character as well), but I realised that wouldn't be fair to everyone else - especially those of you who have been nothing but encouraging. So instead, all I'm going to say about it is that if it continues to happen, I will be disabling anonymous reviews. I apologise to anyone who relies on them to provide constructive feedback, but I really don't appreciate being told that I have "no self respect" by someone who has never met me, and who is too cowardly to sign in or leave an email address_. _I also don't appreciate being accused of doing something I haven't even done yet based on a deliberately vague author's note. __If you have issues with the way the show is written (ie. Booth's behaviour/Brennan's breakdown in DITP), go tweet Hart Hanson because it has nothing to do with me. Nor does what other people choose to do in their fics. That really is the politest way I can put it. _

_Now on to the next chapter...  
_

* * *

Chapter 33.

"Where's Bones?" Parker asked when Booth appeared at the soccer field alone to pick him up from practice on Friday night. "Is she meeting us at home?"

Booth considered inventing an excuse to bide himself more time, but eventually he would have to tell him the truth, so he figured that he should probably just get it over with. "Me and Bones, we, uh, had a fight," he admitted. He'd only seen her once since the night they decided to call it quits, and that was from a distance when he stopped by the Jeffersonian to deliver some files.

His son shrugged. "You and Bones always fight."

Not like this, in that knock down drag out, take no prisoners kind of way, although he should have known that all their bickering would lead there one day. "This was a really big fight," he explained. "Like the one me and your mom had a long time ago, before you were born."

"But you still love each other?" Parker supplied, still not convinced that it was as big a deal as Booth said.

"Yeah, we do, but we agreed that it would be better if we weren't together right now," he told him. "So we're probably not gonna see each other as much anymore."

His son was quiet for a moment while he digested this and then he asked, "Is the baby gonna live with Bones?"

"Yeah, she is," Booth agreed. Brennan must have gotten straight on the phone with her lawyer because the papers showed up in his fax machine the next day; all he had to do now was sign them and the baby would be hers. He had to wait until one night when Parker wasn't around, though, because he planned to get very drunk when he did.

"But she'll still come to visit you, right?" Parker insisted. "Like me?"

"I don't think so, bub."

"Why not?"

Because I'm a coward, Booth thought miserably. Because I'm not strong enough to go through that again. "Because she needs to be with her mom."

"Then we can go to Bones' house," Parker suggested.

"We can't just invite ourselves over to Bones' house, Parker," Booth told him. He couldn't keep intruding on Brennan like that, especially with a new baby in the house.

"Why not?"

"Because she might not want us there." The last time he was in her apartment he broke up with her; he wouldn't blame her if she was feeling less than hospitable.

"Of course she'll want us there," Parker told him as if it were all that simple. "She's Bones!"

* * *

Three days later, Booth was working at his desk when Angela sauntered into his office and slapped him upside the head.

"Ow!" he cried, letting go of his pen and pressing his hand to the spot. "What'd you do that for?"

She regarded him with a sheepish grin, sinking into the visitor's chair. "Sorry, best friend's prerogative," she explained.

He couldn't deny that he probably deserved it; then again, she was yet to hear his side of the story. "How is she?" he asked, even though he wasn't sure that he really wanted to know.

"She's putting on a brave face, but she's a mess, Booth," Angela admitted. "You're not the first guy who's ever broken up with her, but you're the first guy she ever loved. The only guy."

"Is that what you came here to tell me?" he asked. He wasn't in the mood for a guilt trip; not when he felt bad enough as it was.

"No. Cam and I are having a baby shower for her at the lab and, well, it felt wrong not to invite you," she told him. "I mean, you _are_ the father."

"I appreciate that you wanna include me, Angela, but this has nothing to do with me anymore. See?" He handed her the stapled pages that were still lying on top of his in tray. "We have a contract."

She put it back on his desk without looking at it. "But you're still her friend, right?"_ s_he tried to reason. When he ignored her, pretending to be absorbed in what he was writing in the hope that she would take the hint and leave, she continued,"This is crazy, Booth. You're really just gonna give her the baby? Your baby?"

He dropped his pen again. "Why not?" he challenged her. "That was the plan. I give her my sperm, she gets pregnant, life goes on."

"Nine months ago," she reminded him. "And it was just as insane then as it is now. But we aren't talking about sperm anymore, Booth, we're talking about a little girl – your only daughter. Don't you love her at all?"

How can you say that? he wanted to ask her, but instead, he just shrugged stubbornly. "Sometimes love isn't enough." He loved Brennan too, but she didn't love him; at least not enough to want to spend the rest of her life with him. Apparently no woman did.

"Thank you, Don Henley," she rejoined, throwing her hands up in exasperation. He could see that she was losing patience with him now. Good. Maybe now she would go away.

"Seriously, what the hell happened between you two?" she asked. "Two weeks ago you guys could barely keep your hands off each other and now you're not even talking?"

Surely Brennan must have told her the whole sordid tale by now? "I asked her to marry me. She said no. We broke up. End of story."

She leaned forward, gaping at him in shock. "You did what?"

"Broke up," he repeated. He frowned, confused. "Aren't you the one who just slapped me?"

"Not that. You proposed? Again? To Temperance Brennan, president of the 'We Hate Marriage' club? Jesus, Booth what's wrong with just living together for a while?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask her?" he retorted.

"I would but she's just as pigheaded as you are," she told him.

She took a deep breath, her expression softening as she tried again. "Isn't there some way you guys can work this out? I know you're like oil and water but that's never stopped you before. You're Booth and Brennan."

Not anymore. Now he was just Booth. "Was there something else you wanted, Angela?" he asked her. "Because I really don't have time for a lecture right now."

She took something out of her purse and placed it in front of him. When he looked down, he saw that it was an invitation with little cartoon pictures of baby animals drawn all over it. "The shower is tomorrow at noon," she told him, getting up. "When you're finished with your pity party, or whatever it is that you're doing here, you should come join your friends."

* * *

The platform was deserted when Booth let himself into the lab; hearing voices, he climbed the stairs to the lounge, which was decorated simply with pink and white streamers and balloons. Everyone was already there, milling around the table, talking and laughing: Cam, Hodgins, Sweets, Daisy, Wendell, Vincent, Fisher, and Arastoo. Even Clark had made an appearance to celebrate the newest addition to the Jeffersonian team.

Booth scanned the group for Brennan, finally spotting her sitting on the couch with Angela. She smiled as she held up a tiny green dress with pink butterflies embroidered on it – the colours reminded Booth of the nursery they'd painted together and he wondered idly if that was why Angela had chosen it – folding it and placing it back on what was left of her lap so that she could embrace her best friend.

Daisy was the first one to notice him. "Agent Booth!"she gushed."We didn't think you were coming!"

Brennan glanced up at the sound of his name, her smile fading as their eyes met. "Booth. What…?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling suddenly awkward, like he was crashing her party. Maybe he should have stayed away. "Angela invited me," he explained.

Brennan turned back to her for confirmation and she nodded. "Thank you," she mouthed to Booth, smiling at him.

He offered her a stiff smile in return.

"You don't mind, do you, sweetie?" she asked Brennan.

"No, of course not," she agreed. To Booth, she said, "We have plenty of food. You're welcome to stay."

"Thanks, but I've gotta get back to work soon."

Brennan nodded. "Yes, I understand."

Angela gave her friend's knee a reassuring pat. "I'm gonna go talk to Vincent," she told them, getting up. "I'm sure he has lots of interesting facts about babies for me." She drifted over to the other side of the table where the British intern was engaged in a conversation with a slightly-bored looking Wendell and Hodgins.

"It was nice of everyone to do this for you," Booth said to Brennan once they were alone; as alone as they could be in a room full of people.

"Angela says a baby shower is a mandatory activity for expectant mothers," she explained.

He smiled. "She's a good friend."

"I found a midwife," she told him, to keep the conversation going. "She has master's degree from Georgetown University and she's very experienced at delivering babies in an out of hospital setting. I'm meeting with her later in the week."

"You're definitely having the baby at home then?" he asked, sinking into the nearest chair.

"Yes," she agreed, lowering her voice. "Angela will be there, and my father, and maybe even Russ and Amy if Hayley's not in hospital and he can get the time off work."

"That's good. I'm glad," he told her. It made him feel slightly less guilty to hear that she would have her family around her. "Do you think maybe you could…? I'd like to know how everything went."

"I'll ask someone to call you afterwards," she agreed. "If you want, I could get them to send you a picture. So you can see what she looks like."

"Thanks." He held out a small package. "I, uh, I brought something for you."

"You didn't have to do that, Booth," she told him. "You already bought me a crib."

"I didn't really," he admitted as he watched her unwrap it. "I ordered it a while ago." Inside was a tiny infant Flyers jersey, identical to the one_s _that he and Parker both owned_. _"I was gonna give it to her when I took her to her first game…"

"It's not too late to reconsider, Booth," she told him, setting it aside with the rest of the gifts. "You can still be a part of her life."

He shook his head. "I don't think it's a good idea, Bones. We tried that before and everything got so complicated. You were right, I should've been honest with you from the beginning, about how I felt, and I wasn't and that's on me. It wasn't fair for me to muscle in on your pregnancy the way I did when we had an agreement. I'm sorry I did that."

"I didn't exactly make it easy for you, Booth," she reminded him softly. "I should have given you the opportunity to negotiate your involvement, but instead, I just assumed that you were content to focus all of your energy on Parker. I didn't realise how much I was hurting you. But I know now and I'm sorry too."

He covered her hand with his own, giving it a brief squeeze. "I know I don't exactly have the right to ask you this anymore, but do you think maybe I could bring him around to meet her some time?" he asked her. "I tried telling him what happened but I'm not sure he understands."

"Of course, Booth," she agreed. "Any time you want to see her…"

* * *

_Next chapter: baby time...  
_


	34. Chapter 34

_Thanks for the reviews. One more update and then I will be taking a short break. To be honest, I was overwhelmed by the response to the last few chapters. In particular, I'm finding it hard to deal with people telling me that I ruined a story _I_ created (and therefore know better than anyone else) when it isn't even finished, by introducing elements that come straight out of canon. I'm not interested in "fixing" the show because I don't think it needs to be fixed. That was never my intention in writing this fic. What I wanted to do was explore that storyline in a realistic way. At the risk of inciting another debate, I've never been one of those fans who believes that Booth is a saint, or that he should be. To me, he's just as capable of being childish, impulsive, stubborn, proud, irrational, impatient, jealous, unreasonable, etc., as anyone else (including Brennan), especially when he's wounded, and that is how I've written him here. He has his own issues and I'm trying to address them as well as Brennan's. If you think I'm biased towards him, well that's because I'm writing from his POV. If I were to write a companion fic from Brennan's perspective (which I have considered) you would see a totally different story.  
_

* * *

Chapter 34.

It was after ten p.m. when Booth's phone rang. He flung his arm out beside him, fumbling around on the nightstand until his fingers closed over the cool plastic. Why didn't people ever find bodies in the daytime? Shouldn't it be easier by daylight?

"Booth."

"Seeley Booth?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

"Speaking."

"My name is Mary Garcia," the woman on the other end of the line told him. "I'm a nurse at Washington Hospital Center. I'm calling on behalf of Temperance Brennan. She has you listed as her emergency contact."

Emergency? Alarm bells went off inside his head and suddenly he was wide awake. "Did something happen to her?" he asked, his chest constricting painfully as his mind ran through all of the different scenarios that could have landed her in hospital, from complications with her pregnancy, to car wrecks, to getting attacked by any one of the hundreds of murder suspects who had it in for them.

"She's fine," the nurse assured him before his imagination could go too wild. "She's in labour."

"But the baby's not due until February," he insisted. February second. The date was tattooed in his brain. February was still almost six weeks away. "Can't you do something to stop it?"

"Ms. Brennan—"

"Dr," he corrected her absently. "She's a doctor. Well not a doctor doctor – she has a PhD…" He was aware that he was rambling but he was having trouble staying focused on the conversation.

"Dr. Brennan is past the cut off point," the nurse explained. "By thirty-four weeks, the baby's lungs are usually mature enough for it to be able to breathe on its own, although we'll have a NICU team on stand by just in case there are any concerns."

On hearing that his daughter might have to spend the first few weeks of her life in intensive care, Booth felt like he was the one who couldn't breathe. He located a discarded pair of jeans and began pulling them on. "I'm on my way."

* * *

When he arrived at the hospital, Booth barked Brennan's name at the receptionist, and then he was off racing again. He slowed down once he reached the maternity ward, following the signs until he located her room.

She was lying in bed, hooked up to some kind of electronic foetal heart monitor by a band across her belly; she opened her eyes at the sound of the door opening, her face registering her surprise when she saw that it was him. "Booth. How did you know I was here?"

"One of the nurses called me," he told her, dropping into the visitor's chair by the bed. "Are you all right? What happened?"

"I don't know," she confessed. "I was going over some notes I made for a presentation I'm supposed to be giving tomorrow for the Board of Trustees and I started having what seemed like contractions. At first I thought it was just Braxton Hicks so I got up and walked around the apartment but then I felt the amnion rupture—"

"Something ruptured?" he repeated, concerned. "Is that…? That sounds really bad."

"The unscientific term is 'water', Booth," she explained. "It means my water broke. That's when I realised I needed to go to the hospital."

"Oh." He felt stupid for not knowing that that was what she was talking about. "That's good. Well not good, but it's normal, right?"

She nodded slightly, and then her calm facade started to crumple. "This isn't how I wanted to bring her into the world, Booth. It was going to be at home, in my own room… I had it all planned."

"I know," he tried to soothe her, "but you did the right thing coming here." He picked up her hand. "How did you get here anyway?" He hadn't seen anyone else on the way in. "You didn't try to drive yourself while you were in labour, did you?" Surely there had to be some kind of law against that?

"I took a cab," she assured him. "I tried to call Angela but she wasn't picking up her phone. She and Hodgins are back together, did you know that? And my dad isn't coming until Christmas Eve…"

"Why didn't you call me?" he asked her, ashamed that while she was trying to find someone to take her to the hospital, he had been at home in bed sleeping.

"You said we couldn't be friends anymore," she reminded him.

He hated himself for making her think that he didn't want anything more to do with her, when the opposite was true. "I was hurting, Bones," he told her, smoothing the sweaty bangs back from her forehead. "I said a lot of stupid things I didn't mean. But you have to know that if you'd called me, I would've come."

"Will you stay with me?" she asked. "I don't think I can do this by myself."

"Of course," he agreed. He couldn't leave her now, even if he wanted to. "I would never let you go through this alone." He smiled, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. "Technically I am still your birthing partner."

* * *

"You know, I wish you'd let them give you something for the pain," Booth told her hours later when she was still struggling through the active stage of labour. By his count, her contractions were now around five minutes apart, so he hoped that it wouldn't be too much longer before she could start pushing. "Rebecca had an epidural with Parker and he turned out okay."

"No, Booth, I'm fine," she insisted through gritted teeth.

"Your face is purple, Bones! And you're shaking!"

If looks could kill, he would have been dead. "Really, I'm fine!" she snapped, her voice rising on the last word, before the next contraction robbed her of the ability to speak.

You are not fine, he thought, but he was quickly learning that now was not the time to contradict her, about anything. In fact, the less he said, the better. He didn't even yelp when she gripped his hand so tightly he thought that she might actually have broken some bones.

"I can do this," she finished when it finally passed.

"I know," he agreed, feeling helpless. Nothing he tried – from walking the halls with her, to making her some kind of weird raspberry tea, to massaging her back – seemed to work for long. "I'm sorry. I just hate seeing you like this. It kills me, Bones."

"You're almost at eight centimetres," Brennan's midwife told them when she came in to measure her progress. "It shouldn't be more than another hour or two."

"An hour? Are you sure?" Booth protested, earning himself another murderous glare from Brennan, who clearly thought he had no right to complain, even if it was on her behalf.

"One centimetre per hour," the midwife explained. "Could be more, could be less, depending on how eager your little one is to come out."

* * *

Eight hours after Brennan's water broke, at around five a.m., the baby finally decided to make her appearance.

"Okay, Temperance, it's time for you to push," the midwife told her.

Her ordeal was almost over. Booth squeezed her leg, smiling encouragingly. "Here we go, Bones. Baby time."

To his surprise, she shook her head. "I can't."

"What?" Hadn't she just spent the last seven hours telling him the exact opposite? "Of course you can, Bones. You've been shot. Giving birth should be a piece of cake compared to that."

"I'm not ready," she said tearfully. And there it was, the epiphany he'd been waiting for, only it was nine months too late. "What was I thinking? This was a mistake. I can't have a baby. I would be a terrible mother."

"Don't say that," he told her, rubbing her back gently. "You're gonna be a great mom. Remember Andy?"

"I only had to take care of Andy for a few days," she reminded him. "What if she doesn't like me, Booth?"

It broke his heart to hear her talk like that. "She is gonna love you, Bones – you're her mother. You're just panicking, okay? You're scared and you're in pain, but you can do this, all right? I know you can. I believe in you, Temperance."

He climbed up onto the bed so that he was sitting behind her, threading the fingers on each hand through hers. "We're gonna do this together, okay? On the count of three," he instructed her, and this time, she nodded. "One… Two… Three… Push!"

She cried out as she bore down with all of her might.

"That's it," he murmured. "Good girl." She leant back into him, catching her breath, and he grazed her damp forehead with his lips.

"That's it, baby, you're doing great," he told her when she recovered enough to resume pushing. "Keep going! You're almost there!"

He continued to whisper words of encouragement in her ear, pressing gentle kisses to her forehead, her hair, the side of her face, until he heard the midwife announce, "The head and shoulders are out. One more and that should do it."

"One more, okay?" he repeated in a soothing tone. "Then you can rest." When she nodded wordlessly, he yelled, "Ready? Push!"

A shrill cry filled the room as the baby emerged, wailing in protest at being ripped from the warmth of her mother's womb, and Booth breathed a sigh of relief at how healthy her lungs sounded.

"Congratulations. You have a little girl," the midwife told them, lifting her up so that they could see her before she took her away to examine her.

Exhausted, Brennan collapsed back into him, still holding his hands. "I did it," she sighed, turning her head to look at him.

She might be the world's leading expert on forensic anthropology, but in all the time that he'd known her, he didn't think he'd ever seen her as proud of herself as she was at that moment.

He was proud of her too. "What did I tell you? You were amazing."

"So were you."

Their position meant that their faces were now inches apart; his eyes locked with hers, and then an invisible force drew them together, their lips meeting in a delicate kiss that was as natural as it was unexpected.

Booth pulled back when the midwife returned with their daughter, letting go of her hands and sliding off the bed so that Brennan could lie back down again.

"She's so small," she whispered, as the midwife placed the wriggling infant, who had been cleaned and swaddled in a pink blanket, on her chest.

"Four pounds, fifteen ounces," she told them. "She's a very good size for her age. We'll run some more tests to be sure, but it looks like you have nothing to worry about."

"What do I say to her?" Brennan asked Booth when she moved away again, leaving them alone with the baby.

"Whatever you want. Just tell her what's in your heart."

"Hi," she greeted her in a soft voice, caressing the fine, dark hair that covered her head with tentative fingers. "Do you know who I am? I'm your mother. I'm so happy to finally meet you."

The sight was mesmerising. "She's beautiful, Bones," he breathed. "She looks just like you." Her eyes were a darker shade of blue, but they were shaped the same way, crossing over themselves as she struggled to take in the world around her. Already, Booth thought she looked smart; she was going to be a genius too, he could just tell.

"I agree," she said, without tearing her gaze from the baby in her arms.

"What, no scientific mumbo jumbo about endorphins or something?" he teased her, surprised that she wasn't going to try to downplay her emotions with some kind of anthropological justification.

She shook her head with a smile. "No. Although…" She traced the side of their daughter's face lightly with one finger. "Notice how the frontal bone is wider than the zygomatic?"

"I don't know what that means," he confessed.

"It means she has your bone structure," she told him happily.

"You really think so?" he asked her. Staring down at the baby in awe, he realised that she was right. She did look a little like him, and maybe Parker, when he was that age.

"Would you like to hold her?" Brennan asked quietly.

Any minute now they were going to take the baby away to the NICU for monitoring so that she could rest and then he would have missed his chance for today.

He didn't trust himself to answer so he just shook his head. "She's your kid," he answered finally. "You should… You need time to bond with her."

She must have noticed the change in his mood, because she looked up at him then, scrutinizing him for a long moment. "Are you okay?"

He'd already promised to give her sole custody; how did he tell her that the reason he didn't want to hold their daughter was that knew that if he did, he would fall even more in love with her than he already was, and never want to let her go? He'd already changed his mind twice: could he really do it again?

"Yeah, it's just… It's been a long night," he lied. Now was not the time to discuss the future of their relationship.

"Oh, well you should go home then, if you're tired," she told him. "We'll be fine on our own. Won't we, baby? Yeah." She kissed the top of her daughter's head, smiling at her.

Rather than reassure him like he knew she intended, her words sent a dull ache through his chest. He knew how capable she was; that was what made it so hard. She would take to motherhood the same way she had to science and history and everything else she'd ever set her mind to and when she did, she wouldn't need him anymore.

He made a split second decision, motioning for her to hand the baby over to him. "Give her here."

"I thought you said you were tired?" she reminded him.

"Not too tired to welcome her properly." He accepted their daughter gingerly, settling her against his heart. "Hey, pretty girl," he whispered, looking her over carefully. She was perfection itself, from her auburn tinted curls, to the tips of her delicate toes. He brought his face closer, inhaling her sweet scent. "I forgot how good new babies smell."

"You do realise it's just pheromones making you say that?" Brennan told him. She grinned. "But you're right. She does smell pretty good."

Once he'd had his fill of her, he eased the baby carefully back into Brennan's arms, watching as she tucked a tiny foot back inside the folds of the blanket, looking every bit the fussy new mother.

"I'm gonna go home and get some sleep," he told her, "but I'll stop by later to see how guys are doing."

"Thanks, Booth."

"For what? Holding the baby?"

She laughed. "For everything. I couldn't have done it without you."

"You know I'm always here for you, right? You and…?" He realised that he'd forgotten to ask her if she'd named the baby yet.

"I still don't have a name for her," she confessed.

"Baby Bones it is."

"Baby Bones," she repeated. "I like that." She smiled at him. "And I know."

* * *

_Next chapter: Booth talks to Cam about the baby_...


	35. Chapter 35

_Thanks for your reviews and your PMs. I tried to reply to as many of them as I could, but if you didn't get a response, I want you to know that I really appreciate your support.  
_

* * *

Chapter 35.

The first thing Booth did when he got home from the hospital was call Cam to let her know that Brennan would be starting her maternity leave early.

"You're gonna have to reschedule that meeting with the Board of Trustees."

"Why? Is something wrong with Dr. Brennan?"

"She went into labour last night. Had the baby around 6 a.m. this morning."

"I'm assuming you were there?"

"Yeah."

"Good for you, Seeley. How's everybody doing?"

"Great. You were right – it was a girl. Four pounds, fifteen ounces. No name as yet."

"So tiny. But she's healthy?"

"Yeah, she's tough like her mom. Twelve hours of labour without so much an aspirin. I tried to talk her into getting an epidural, but she was pretty adamant about the whole natural birth thing."

"Yikes! She's stubborn, I'll give her that."

They chatted for a few minutes longer, and then hung up, Cam promising to pass on the news on to the rest of the Jeffersonian crew, except Angela, who was next on Booth's contact list. He wasn't sure how to get in touch with Max since he was too paranoid to carry a cell and Russ would be at work by now. Brennan would probably want to make the announcement to her family herself anyway.

"You are officially an aunt," he told Angela when she answered her phone.

"Bren had the baby? Was it a girl? How are they?"

"At 5:48 this morning. Mother and daughter are both fine."

"That explains why she wasn't picking up when I tried to call her back. She wasn't by herself, was she? You were there?"

"Of course."

"That's good. Where are they? When can we see them?"

After he got off the phone with Angela, he made his final call of the morning, to Hacker, to inform him that he would be taking a personal day. Then he crawled back into his unmade bed and managed to fall into a dreamless sleep, waking again just before noon.

Remembering his promise to Brennan, he put on a pot of coffee and went to take a shower and change his clothes before returning to the hospital.

Cam was leaving the special care nursery as he arrived. "How's Bones?" he asked her.

"Good. Angela's in there with her now."

Through the glass door, he spied the two of them sitting together over by their daughter's crib, Angela holding the tiny pink bundle while Brennan looked on, worn out, but happier than he'd ever seen her.

"I was just about to go in search of coffee," Cam told him. "You want one?"

"Sure," he agreed, tearing his eyes from the view, and falling into step beside her. He was going to need as many cups as he could get to make it through the rest of the day.

They found a vending machine at the end of the hall and took their Styrofoam cups to go sit in a nearby visitors' lounge.

"Bones take you in to see the baby?" Booth asked her.

"She's gorgeous, Seeley," Cam agreed with a smile. "And I'm not one of those women who goes gaga over babies."

He couldn't help feeling a surge of pride. "I wish I could take the credit, but that's not me."

"Are you kidding? Even if she hadn't announced it in front of the entire lab, I still would have known that you were that child's father," she told him. "She's definitely a Booth."

"That's what Bones said. Well actually, she used a bunch of big words I didn't understand, but apparently it means she inherited the Booth forehead." He smiled at the memory of what was undoubtedly one of the most intimate experiences that he'd ever shared with anyone in his life.

"So you were at the birth?" Cam asked him, almost as though she were sensing his thoughts. "Does that mean you two are getting back together?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "I don't know what to do, Cam. You saw her – she's perfect. She deserves so much better than me." She was the most amazing thing he'd ever done aside from Parker, and he'd given her away – _twice_ – instead of fighting for her.

"You are one of the best guys I know," Cam told him. "Dr. Brennan couldn't have picked a better father for her child."

"Then why didn't she want me involved?" he insisted. "Even when we were together, it was like it was her kid and she was just letting me help."

"I don't think it has anything to do with what she thinks of your abilities as a father," she assured him. "She knows how good you are with Parker."

He sighed. "Did Angela tell you I tried to propose?"

"She might have mentioned it."

"I just wanted to do it right this time, y'know?" He was tired of not being there to put his kids to bed and eat breakfast with them in the morning and drive them to school and all that normal stuff that other fathers took for granted. "I just need to know that I have a place in their lives, and that that's not gonna change. Rebecca wouldn't give me that, but I thought maybe it would be different with Bones…" Only once again, his dream of having a family with the woman he loved had been ripped away. He was beginning to think that it was a sign.

"Have you tried telling Brennan that?" Cam asked him.

He shook his head. "I didn't really get a chance." Every time he tried to talk to her about the future it escalated into a fight.

"Well then maybe it's time that you did." She patted his knee. "C'mon, we should get you back," she said, dropping her empty cup in the trash and pushing herself to her feet.

"Congratulations, Daddy," Angela greeted him when she came out of the nursery, drawing him into an excited hug.

"Angela…"

"Don't even bother finishing that sentence, Booth, because you and I both know that kid has been yours since the moment Brennan asked you to knock her up," she argued. "A piece of paper doesn't change that." She stepped back, giving him a gentle shove in the direction of the door she'd just come through. "Now get your sexy ass in there. Your family needs you."

Brennan was still sitting in the chair in the corner where Angela left her, cradling their daughter in her arms. As he got closer, Booth noticed that she wasn't just holding her; the baby was attached to her breast, sucking contentedly.

"Whoa! You're doing that here?" he hissed, looking around to make sure no one was watching. They may not be together anymore, but that didn't mean that he was comfortable with strangers – especially strange men – ogling her breasts. "Shouldn't you ask for a privacy screen or something?"

"It's a perfectly normal biological process," she reminded him, the corners of her lips turning up into a slight smirk as she met his eyes. She regarded his expression, noting the feint blush creeping into his cheeks. "You're not going to freak out, are you? Because if you are, you'd better hand me that nursing cover." She gestured to a brightly-coloured piece of fabric draped over the other chair.

"No, I just… I've never actually seen it done before," he confessed. "I mean I've _seen_ it, but I've never actually looked, y'know?" Whenever he saw a woman breastfeeding in public, he quickly averted his eyes out of respect.

"You want to watch me feed the baby?"she supplied for him.

"When you say it like that, you make me sound like a pervert," he protested.

"It's natural for men to be curious about breastfeeding," she assured him. "I have no objections to you observing us. I want you to feel confident that she's receiving the care she deserves. She_ is_ your child."

He draped the cloth over to the arm of the chair and sat down beside her. "Bones, I never would have agreed to let you use my stuff if I didn't think you were gonna take good care of the baby."

"I will admit, before giving birth, I was concerned that I lacked the traits necessary for nurturing a child," she confessed, returning her attention to their daughter, "but now that I have begun to experience motherhood firsthand, I see how unfounded those fears were." When she glanced back up at Booth, there were tears in her eyes. "I never knew that I could love another person this much."

"Neither did I until Parker was born," he told her, reaching between them to stroke the baby's head gently. "So how does this work? I mean how do you know that she's getting enough?"

"Most infants communicate that they're full by unlatching themselves. I just wait for her to release my breast. That's how I can tell when she's ready to stop."

"What are these for?"he asked, fingering one of the thin wires that snaked from their daughter's chest.

"They're to monitor her vitals," she explained. "Heart rate, breathing, blood pressure, temperature… If they remain stable, we can take her home in a couple of days."

"Would you look at that?" Booth said a few minutes later, watching in awe as the baby let go of Brennan with a snuffling yawn. "You are so smart, aren't you? Yes, you are." He still wasn't sure how he was supposed to address her. "Does she have a name yet?" he asked Brennan. "Or are we still calling her Baby Bones?"

"Her name is Celia," she told him proudly. "I wanted you to be the first to hear it."

"Celia?" He let the name roll off his tongue. _Seel-ya_. Surely it couldn't be a coincidence?

"Yes," she agreed. "Celia Christine Brennan."

That wasn't on any of the lists that she'd made while she was pregnant. In fact, it was pretty tame considering some of her previous choices. "C.C., huh?" he teased her, swallowing against the lump that formed in his throat, touched that she'd found a way to honour him, as well as her mother. "That's cute."

He lifted the baby out of her arms, taking over for her so that she could adjust her clothes. "Hello, C.C.," he cooed, pressing his lips to his daughter's minute brow.

"No, Booth, her name is Celia," Brennan complained, tugging her bra strap back over her shoulder.

"Mommy doesn't like nicknames_,_" he told their daughter in a conspiratorial tone. "They make her very cranky. Yes they do. But that's okay, because she'll get used to it. She might even start calling you 'C.C.' herself."

"No, I won't," she insisted as she fastened the buttons of her shirt. "Don't listen to him, Celia."

"You see what I have to put up with?" he asked the baby. "She's very argumentative."

"You're talking to the baby, but it seems like you want me to hear you," she pointed out, frowning at him.

"And that," he told his daughter, "is why they call Mommy a genius."

* * *

_Next chapter: how does Brennan handle being home alone with a baby?_


	36. Chapter 36

_Thanks for the reviews. I feel like I need to clear the air because a few people have asked me about this: those author's notes were not directed at any of the reviewers who criticised Booth or his decision to break up with Brennan within the context of the story. I don't expect everyone to agree with his actions (or Brennan's) all the time because fictional characters make mistakes too. They were aimed at a couple of anonymous reviews that insulted me as both a person and a writer (one said they had lost all respect for me as an author and as a woman and that I had "no self respect", the other called my writing "ridiculous" and accused me of "character assassination"), so if that wasn't you, then I have no issue with you.  
_

* * *

Chapter 36.

When C.C. was three days old, the doctors pronounced her healthy enough to go home.

"Are you sure you're gonna be all right on your own?" Booth asked Brennan when he dropped them off at her place. He set the car seat containing their slumbering daughter down gently on the dining room table. "Because I'm happy to sleep on the couch..." He wasn't ready to let go of them yet, especially after the renewed closeness he'd developed with Brennan while their daughter was in the hospital. They still hadn't talked about the kiss they'd shared in the delivery room, although he supposed they could put it down to the intense emotions they'd both felt as a result of creating a new life together.

"I'll be fine, Booth," she assured him, shrugging out of her coat. "She's a baby, not a murderer. Besides, it's only for a few days, until my dad gets here."

Booth felt a stab of jealousy at the idea of Max showering his family with love and attention while he himself remained on the outs. "You've got everything you need?" he pressed, hoping to catch her out so that he could swoop in and save the day, and maybe prove to her once and for all that he was someone worth keeping around. "Diapers, wipes, powder…?"

"Yes, Booth," she agreed patiently. "Angela picked some things up for me so I don't have to go out."

"Why didn't you ask me?" he insisted, miffed that she'd sent her best friend to the store instead of him. "I could've swung by the supermarket on the way to pick you up."

"I didn't want to impose on you any more than I already have," she explained.

"You're not imposing on me, Bones," he told her. She could never impose on him; especially when it came to their daughter. How many times did he have to tell her that he was here for her before she believed him? "I like taking care of you and C.C."

He waited for her to offer to let him stay, but when she didn't, seemingly resolute in her belief that she could handle things without him, he said, "If everything here is under control then I guess I'll leave you two to get settled in. But if you need anything, you call me, okay? Any time, day or night. My phone's always on."

"Okay," she agreed.

She wouldn't, though, would she? She would try to take care of everything on her own, like she always did. "Promise me, Bones."

"I promise, Booth."

He couldn't think of any more reasons to hang around, so he unbuckled their daughter, who was beginning to stir now, from her car seat, holding her up in front of him so that they were nose to nose. "Bye bye, C.C.," he said, kissing the tip. "You be a good girl for Mommy, okay?" He kissed her one last time, on the crown of the head, before handing her resolutely into her mother's waiting arms. "Have fun," he told her.

* * *

Back at his own apartment, Booth cracked open a beer and turned on the TV, and tried to enjoy the return to normalcy after days spent eating hospital food and drinking crappy vending machine coffee while camped out by his daughter's crib in the NICU. The quiet should have been a relief, after the stress of the past seventy-two hours, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about Brennan and C.C., wondering what they were doing, and if they felt his absence as strongly as he felt theirs. He missed teasing Brennan and hearing her laugh, he missed the warmth of their daughter's soft little body snuggled against his, he missed being with the woman he loved and their child, living the life that he'd always dreamed about but could never seem to make work.

He wasn't that hungry, but he heated up a frozen dinner and ate it in the living room, and was contemplating getting ready for bed when his cell phone erupted.

"Hey, Bones," he greeted her, trying not to sound like he'd been waiting for her call. She said something in response, but he was distracted by the sound of C.C. screaming in the background. "Bones, what's wrong? Is the baby okay?"

"She won't stop crying," she told him.

He could hear the tears in her voice. "When was the last time you fed her?"

"Half an hour ago."

It was doubtful that she was hungry then. "Well did you check her diaper? Maybe she needs changing," he suggested, moving on to the next item on the checklist of obvious causes.

"Yes! I tried everything, Booth," she insisted. "I tried picking her up, I tried putting her down, I tried rocking her, I tried singing to her… She hates me."

If she wasn't so upset, he might have ribbed her about how irrational she sounded. Normally she would be the one to tell him how ludicrous the idea of an infant hating anyone was. "She doesn't hate you, Bones," he told her. "She's a baby. Babies cry – sometimes for no reason. Just try to relax, okay? I'll be over as soon as I can."

Finally, something he could help with; he disconnected the call and grabbed his car keys and a jacket from the hook and raced out the apartment.

* * *

He hadn't gotten around to giving Brennan back her key so he let himself in rather than disturb them. It wasn't hard to figure out where they were: he just followed the sound of C.C.'s cries.

"I don't understand," Brennan said when he came into the nursery where she was trudging wearily back and forth with their daughter, who was still howling at the top of her perfectly-formed lungs. "She wasn't like this at the hospital."

She hadn't been alone with her at the hospital. There was always someone around to answer her questions and give her advice. It was the kind of learning environment that she thrived in. "Babies are very attuned to their parents' moods, Bones," he explained._ "_She's just anxious because you are_._" He held out his arms out to her. "Here, give her to me."

She transferred the baby into them and he settled her on his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," he whispered, rubbing her tiny back through her sleep suit in slow, soothing circles. "I know, baby. I know." He resumed pacing with her, while Brennan watched, babbling sweet nonsense at her until she began to calm down. After about ten minutes of this, she stopped whimpering and lay placidly against him with her little face nestled in the crook of his neck.

"How did you do that?" Brennan asked him, looking equal parts impressed and wounded. "She didn't do that for me."

"Practice," he explained. "Parker was a colicky baby. You want her back?"

She shook her head. "No. She'll just start crying again." She pulled the burp rag off her shoulder, sinking down into the rocking chair with it twisted in both hands. "I'm no good at this, Booth," she complained tearfully. "I can't even survive one night alone with my own child. How am I going to make it through the next eighteen years?"

For the first time since he'd arrived, he regarded her with his full attention. Her face was blotchy from crying herself, her ponytail was falling out, and the front of her shirt was stained with what appeared to be spit up. In short, she looked like any other new mom: tired, stressed, and scared out of her mind.

"Come here, Bones." He shifted C.C. so that she was cradled in one elbow, using his other hand to pull her up. "None of us know what we're doing at first," he told her, wrapping her in a fierce one armed hug. "Rebecca didn't. I didn't. It was months before I could be alone with Parker without panicking. You just need some time to get used to her, that's all. I know you're used to being an expert, but you're new at this – you can't expect to get everything right straight off the bat."

She clung back just as hard, burying her face in his shirt, and for a moment they just stood there like that, him rubbing her back the same way he had C.C.'s. "You're exhausted," he told her gently as he released her. "Why don't you let me take her for a while so you can go get some sleep? You're no good to her like this."

"You don't have to do that, Booth," she insisted.

"First rule of parenting, Bones – when someone offers you help, you take it," he told her, even though, if he was honest with himself, it wasn't just about easing her load. He was secretly thrilled at the prospect of spending some one on one time with their daughter.

"But I was the one who wanted this," she protested. "That makes her my responsibility."

"You might have asked for it, Bones, but I agreed," he reminded her. He could have refused, but he hadn't, because deep down he'd wanted this as badly as she did: maybe more. "I want to help you, but I can't if you won't let me."

She was silent as she considered this, then she nodded. "Okay," she told him. "I expressed some milk earlier. It's in the freezer. Her next feeding is in an hour."

"I got it, Bones," he assured her, before she could give him a detailed list of instructions. It wasn't like he was a rookie. He'd probably prepared more bottles than she had. "Now go, get some rest. We'll be fine, won't we, C.C.? We'll wake you up if we need you."

She nodded again, but this time, she smiled. "Thanks, Booth." She kissed their daughter's scalp, stroking the back of her neck. "Goodnight." She ran a hand down his arm as she moved past him to the door, closing it behind her with a soft click, leaving him alone with his daughter for the very first time.

"Looks like it's just you and me, kiddo," he told her.

He carried her over to the rocking chair and sat down with her. "I am so sorry we dragged you into this mess, but I'm gonna fix it, okay?" he assured her. "Tomorrow I'm gonna talk to Mommy and we are gonna figure this out, I promise." He hooked his little finger around hers. "That's called a 'pinky swear'."

Brennan would tell him that she didn't understand what he was saying and was therefore unlikely to take any comfort from his words, but he felt better knowing that they had an agreement.

"Maybe then we can introduce you to your big brother," he continued. "He's very excited to meet you. He's gonna teach you how to play Playstation as soon as you're old enough. You should know, he's pretty good, but with your mommy's brains and my lightening fast reflexes, you can probably take him. Just don't tell him I told you that, okay? It'll be our little secret."

She still looked wide awake so he brought her to his shoulder, rocking them gently with his heel. "Now how about you get some sleep too, huh? We don't want you to be in a bad mood tomorrow. Mommy's already at her wits' end so you need to go easy on her."

He pressed his lips to her hair when she started to fuss again. "Sshh, it's okay," he whispered. "It's okay, baby. Daddy's here. Daddy's got you."

* * *

_Next chapter: Booth and Brennan talk about C.C. and make some decisions...  
_


	37. Chapter 37

_Thanks for the reviews. This chapter is pretty much a PSA for baby wearing but you can blame Brennan and her anthropology lessons for that...  
_

* * *

Chapter 37.

Booth's back was stiff when he woke the next morning. He cracked one eye open. Brennan was leaning against the doorjamb in her bathrobe, watching him with a smile. Looking around at the green walls with their pink trim, he realised that he was still in the rocking chair with C.C., the bottle that he'd used to feed her lying discarded on the rug at his feet.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," Brennan told him when she saw that he was awake. "I was just checking on Celia."

"It's okay." He glanced down at their daughter, noting with relief that she was still dozing peacefully in his arms. "She's fine, see? Sleeping." He rotated his left shoulder, then his right, shifting C.C.'s weight from one arm to the other as he tried to work the kinks out of his joints without disturbing her. "What time is it?"

"It's almost five-thirty."

If he left now, he might be able to fit in a brief nap before work. He stood up slowly, offering the baby to her. "Here you go, Mommy. She's all yours."

"Hold on." Brennan disappeared into the hall, returning a moment later with a piece of cloth tied over one shoulder like a sash which she opened for him so that it formed a kind of shallow sack. "Put her in here," she instructed.

"What is that? It looks like a pouch. You know, like a kangaroo."

"That's the idea," she agreed.

"Are you sure that's safe?" he asked, clutching their daughter protectively to his chest. "What if she falls out?"

"Women have been carrying their children this way since prehistoric times, Booth," she assured him. "In Indonesia, infants are traditionally carried in a sling called a 'selendang' which is very similar to this. In Korea, it's called a 'podaegi' and is worn on the back. Examples can also been seen in Africa, South America and other parts of Asia like Tibet where they're often made from animal skins. As long as it's secure and her breathing isn't restricted she's not in any danger."

If she said it was okay, then he decided that it probably was. She would never do anything to put C.C. at risk. He settled her inside, waiting until she was cradled snugly against Brennan's chest to let go.

"There, that's not so bad, is it?" she cooed to the sleeping baby.

"I don't know – she looks kind of squished," Booth insisted. Her knees were tucked up so that they were almost touching her chest and her arms were crossed over her body; she couldn't have moved much if she wanted to.

"It's not hurting her," Brennan assured him. "Most newborns like the feeling of being confined. It's very soothing for them. It reminds them of being in the womb."

Booth shifted his attention back to their daughter. He supposed that it wasn't all that different to being swaddled. It actually looked kind of cozy.

He smiled, pinching one of C.C.'s tiny curled hands between his thumb and forefinger. "Can you believe we made her?"he asked in a hushed whisper. As the father of an eight-year-old, he shouldn't be astounded by the so-called 'miracle of life' anymore, but he was just as amazed by her now as he was by Parker when he was first born.

"We didn't 'make' her, Booth," Brennan corrected him. "Making implies that we constructed her by combining various disparate parts. While her conception was the intended outcome of me being inseminated, she's just as much a product of random chance as you or I."

"We made her, Bones," he insisted. They might not have done it in the traditional way, but the divine creature between them was without a doubt the most beautiful thing to have come out of their five year partnership. "She exists because of us. Because of what _we_ did." So there was a doctor involved in there somewhere as well. That didn't make it any less amazing.

"I think I know what you mean," Brennan agreed after a moment, studying their daughter herself as though she were trying to see what he saw. "I think I finally understand now why you were so eager for me to experience this."

He didn't answer, waiting for her to go on.

"I've been alone for most of my life," she continued. "Sometimes I even managed to convince myself that I liked it. Then I gave birth and something changed inside of me. All the things I thought mattered – all the grants and awards – pale in comparison to moments like this where I'm just watching her sleep. I never knew that my heart could feel this… full. Metaphorically, of course."

"Of course," he agreed with a smile. She didn't have to explain what she meant because he understood exactly what she was trying to say: C.C. was her greatest achievement. With the exception of Parker, she was his too. "Does that mean you're feeling better?" he asked her. "Last night you weren't so sure."

She nodded. "Yes. Thank you. You were right – I just needed to sleep."

"Glad I could help," he told her.

"I just…"

"What?"

This time when she glanced up at him her eyes were brimming with tears. "I wish my mom was here," she said simply.

He put his arms around her, taking care not to crush the baby. "I know. But you've got your dad and you've got me… You and C.C. are gonna be fine."

As companionable silence passed between them as they held each other.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, lifting her head from his shoulder right when it was about to turn from a friendly hug in to something much more confusing. "If you want I could make you some breakfast."

"I would like that," he told her.

When they reached the kitchen, she opened the fridge, surveying its contents. "Bagels okay?" she asked him.

"Sure. You want me to do anything?"

"No. You were up with the baby all night."

He climbed onto one of the stools at the counter, watching her pull things out, seemingly obvious to C.C. nestled in the sling across her chest. "Don't you think you should put her down while you do that?"

"Why? I'm not using the stove."

"But you could wake her up," he protested.

"There are numerous studies that suggest that babies who are constantly held or carried are calmer and sleep better than those who aren't," she explained. "She's used to being close to me."

"Does it have to be you?" he asked her. "Carrying her, I mean? Or could it be, y'know, anyone?"

"A lot of fathers wear their babies," she agreed. "It's very good for father-infant bonding."

"Do you think maybe I could try it some time?" he asked shyly.

"Sure. You can take her now if you want."

She slipped out of the sling and helped him to put it on, showing him how to position it so that they were both comfortable.

It was kind of nice, he had to admit; having his daughter this close without giving up the use of his hands. If only she could stay that tiny forever. Then he would never have to let her out of his sight.

Once she was satisfied, Brennan stepped back to admire the effect. "I have to get a picture of this," she told him with a playful grin, retrieving her digital camera from her hospital bag.

He tried to look as put out as possible as she snapped a couple of shots, smirking at him all the while, but he knew he wasn't fooling anyone, least of all himself. He was in a better mood than he had been in weeks, and it was all due to her and C.C.

When breakfast was ready, Brennan sat down beside him at the counter to eat and they made idle small talk about their plans for the day. If it wasn't for the little girl sleeping in the sling on his chest, it would almost be like old times, he thought, before he'd gone and ruined everything with his poorly-timed marriage proposal.

"Looks like someone doesn't wanna miss out," he said when their daughter started to whine. He took off the sling and handed it back to Brennan. "I should probably go, give you some privacy."

"You don't have to leave on my account," she told him. "Unless you need to get to work?"

He didn't really want to go yet, so taking that as an invitation, he trailed after them into the living room, debating whether or not he should turn away as Brennan untied her robe and helped the baby latch onto her breast.

"You're getting really good at that," he told her. It didn't make him as uncomfortable as it had at first. In fact, the more times he saw it, the more he came to realise how much he loved watching her in her new role as a mother. It filled him with a strange sense of pride, not just of her, but of himself too for being the one responsible for it.

"Thanks," she said, acknowledging him with a smile. "The sling helps. My arms don't get as tired. And look." She pulled the loose fabric up to conceal what she was doing. "So you don't have to get embarrassed when we're in public."

When the baby had finished eating and fallen promptly back asleep, she transferred her into her car seat.

"Before you leave, we should discuss Celia's birth certificate," she told him, fussing with C.C.'s blanket to avoid looking at him. "I have the paperwork here."

"What about it?" he asked. He checked his watch. There was no way that he could do this now and still make it to work on time. Then again, he had made a promise to their daughter not to put it off any longer.

"Would you like to be named as the father? Because if you're not comfortable with that I can just leave the space blank."

"You really think I'm gonna let you put 'Unknown' when we both know that's not true?" he asked her.

"In our last conversation about it, you indicated that you wished to relinquish your parental rights," she reminded him, her guarded expression making it impossible to tell whether or not she was still hoping that this was the case.

"I know," he agreed, "and if I'd gone through with it, it would've been the biggest mistake of my life. C.C. has a father, Bones. _I'm_ her father."

She opened her mouth to argue but he cut her off. "I was there at the clinic when she was conceived, I was there the night she was born, and for everything in between. I was there. That's what makes me her father – not just the fact that you used my sperm."

"Does this mean you're changing your mind again?" she asked. "How can you be sure that you won't change it back?"

He knew that he probably deserved that. "Because I won't," he told her. "C.C. is _my_ daughter. I can't just pretend that she's not a part of me." He'd tried that and it hadn't worked. He couldn't not be involved. He loved her too much to stay away.

"So you're saying that you would like joint custody?" Brennan supplied.

"No. I don't want joint custody," he admitted. "I want _full_ custody, with you. Bones, I love you, and I love C.C., and I want us to be together as a real family."

She shook her head stubbornly. "You don't want to be with me, Booth," she argued, standing up. "You only think you do because of the baby."

Was that really what she believed? "You're wrong, Bones," he told her. "God, you are so wrong. Do you know why I agreed to help you have a baby in the first place?"

His question seemed to cath her off guard; for once, she didn't try to rationalise his motives. "No," she confessed. "Why?" It was something that they'd never talked about.

"_Because_ I love you. Because I would do anything to make you happy. Anything. What I did for you, Bones… I wouldn't have done it for anyone else."

She stared at him, astonished. "Really? You're not just saying that?"

"Really," he agreed. "I don't know how it's gonna work, but if you're willing to give this another chance, then so am I, because I never want us to be apart like that again. On one condition, though."

"What's that?" she asked warily.

"I want C.C.'s birth certificate to say 'Brennan-Booth'," he told her. "Like we agreed."

At first he was sure that she was going to turn him down. The tears that she'd been battling throughout their conversation spilled over onto her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop their flow. Then finally, after when seemed like an eternity, she nodded."I missed you so much when you weren't here," she confessed, stepping forward to bury her face in his neck.

"I missed you too, Bones," he told her, tears springing to his own eyes as he hugged her back tightly.

He released his hold on her enough to take her face in his hands, brushing his lips lightly against hers to test her reaction.

She responded by deepening the kiss, but she pulled away again after a few moments. "Do you still want to get married?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yes," he admitted. "But I want you more." He could live without being married much easier than he could live without her and their daughter.

"Does that mean we don't have to talk about it right now?" she asked him.

It wasn't the 'yes' that he'd hoped for, but it was better than the 'no' that she'd given him before. She'd already proven that she was capable of changing her mind; maybe one day she would change her mind about that too. "I promise I won't bring it up again until you're ready," he assured her. "Then when you are we can decide."

"Those terms are satisfactory," she agreed with a lopsided smile. She drew him back in, but this time the kiss only lasted for a few seconds before a new thought occurred to her. "You know we can't have sex?"

"You just gave birth!" he protested. Did she really think he was some kind of animal who couldn't control himself? "Trust me when I say sex is the last thing on my mind."

"We can't make love," she repeated, "but we can do other things."

"Bones!" He shot her a scandalised look.

"I meant cuddling," she told him innocently, but he could see the wicked gleam in her eyes. "And maybe kissing, like this," she continued, still teasing him.

"That we can do," he agreed. Oh yeah, he was definitely going to be late for work.

* * *

_As you may have guessed, this fic is nearing the end (things still aren't perfect, but they're on their way). Parker still has to meet his little sister, though, and if you've been following the timeline, it's almost Christmas Eve which means the return of Max...  
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	38. Chapter 38

_Thanks for the reviews. I was a nervous about posting the last chapter - I wanted it to be realistic and not contrived - so I'm glad everyone liked it.  
_

* * *

Chapter 38.

"I think we should buy a house." Brennan was lounging on her side, nursing C.C. in bed.

Booth lay opposite them, supporting their daughter with one hand on her back, his middle finger running the length of her delicate spine. "You're serious?" he asked her. "Just like that, you wanna buy a house?" Whatever happened to taking things slow this time?

"We're already committed to raising a child together," she pointed out. "It's only logical that we share a domicile."

"Don't get me wrong, I think living together is a great idea," he agreed, "but why a house? Why not just move into one of our apartments until C.C. gets older?"

"You said it yourself – there's barely enough room for the three of us, let alone four of us."

"Four? Bones, I know you were in grad school before you lost your virginity, but didn't anyone ever tell you that you can't get pregnant from making out?" he teased her. That was something they'd been doing a lot of, since they couldn't actually have sex.

She screwed her face up in confusion. "What? That doesn't even make sense, Booth. There's no sperm in saliva and even if there was, how would…?" She broke into a grin when she realised that he was just messing with her. "You're being ironic."

"You got me," he agreed. "I think we've established that you need—" He covered their daughter's dainty ears to prevent her from hearing the word a second time "— sperm to have a baby."

"Do adolescents really believe that?" she asked curiously. "That it's possible to become pregnant from non-penetrative sexual acts?"

He was glad that he'd had the foresight to shield C.C.'s ears. He didn't want her getting any ideas. "My first girlfriend did," he admitted. "We were twelve."

She shook her head with a smile. "You were quite the lothario when you were a boy."

"I still am," he told her, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

Either his powers were fading or she was too distracted to fall prey to his charms. "I was talking about Parker," she explained in a serious voice. "I assume that you would like for him to spend more time with us now that we are attempting to form a family unit?"

"Not attempting, Bones," he corrected her. He had no intention of leaving her or C.C. ever again. "We're already a family. But you're right, I would like Parker to be a part of that, if that's still okay with you?"

"Of course," she agreed. "Parker will always be welcome in our home."

He kissed her gently."Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"Once or twice."

He kissed her again before getting up to retrieve the morning paper.

When he came back, Brennan had finished feeding C.C. and was playing with her, talking to her in a soft voice.

He climbed back into bed with them, settling back against the headboard with the property section spread open across his lap."There're a couple of three bedrooms in Arlington for around four hundred. We could drive out there and take a look in the New Year."

"Perhaps we should expand the search to include houses with four and five bedrooms?" Brennan suggested, placing C.C. back inside her crib.

"Five bedrooms?" he repeated. "You really think we're gonna have two guests at the same time? Maybe at Christmas…" Slowly it dawned on him. "You want another baby!"

She didn't make eye contact with him, studying the property listings intently instead.

"You do!" he insisted. "Come on, admit it, Bones. Now that you've seen how perfectly the first one turned out, you wanna make more."

"Not right away," she protested.

"Aha! So you're not gonna deny it?"

"I'm only thinking of Celia. Studies show that children can benefit from having siblings close in age."

He smiled. "You want another baby," he repeated in a softer tone, poking her affectionately in the ribs.

"Don't you?" she asked seriously. "You're always telling me what a blessing children are."

They were still adjusting to life as a threesome, soon to be foursome. He wasn't ready to add to that any time soon. "Not right at this moment, but a year from now? Definitely." He glanced over at their daughter, snoring softly in her crib on Brennan's other side. "If he or she is as beautiful as C.C., I might even want two." He would take as many as she was prepared to give him, whether that was two or three or just their one perfect daughter.

"Two?" She sounded slightly incredulous. "Shouldn't we wait until Celia is sleeping through the night before we discuss procreating in multiples?"

"You're the one who started this conversation by suggesting we buy a house with spare bedrooms," he reminded her.

"Angela says that the correct way to conceive a child is to 'get naked together and devour each other in a passionate frenzy'," she told him, her blue eyes sparkling. "I would very much like to try that next time."

He laughed. "Me too, Bones," he agreed, kissing her. "Me too."

* * *

On Christmas Eve, Booth sat on the bed with C.C. propped against his stomach, watching a towel-clad Brennan deliberate over the contents of her closet. He was already dressed for dinner and so was their daughter; him in a navy button down shirt and jeans, and her in a white dress with a red velvet top: another gift from her "favourite" Aunt Angela.

"I'll get it," he told Brennan when the doorbell rang. He stood up, taking their daughter with him. "Let's go see who's at the door."

Sure enough, it was Max. He looked from the baby, back up to Booth's face. "Something you wanna tell me, Booth?"

Booth lifted her up so that Max could see her better. "Max, I would like you to meet Celia Christine Brennan-Booth. Your granddaughter."

"Booth, huh?" Max repeated in a quizzical tone.

Booth gazed down at his daughter and smiled."Yeah."

When he returned his attention to Max, Brennan's father was grinning. "Thank God. I was afraid she would've sent you packing by now," he confessed, and Booth felt a pang of guilt at how close his words were to the truth. Fortunately, he'd come to his senses. "I thought Tempe said she wasn't due until February?"

"She was," Booth agreed, "but try telling C.C. that."

"C.C.?"

"The baby. Celia Christine. C.C.," he explained. In all honesty, her real name made him slightly uncomfortable, mostly because he still wasn't sure that he deserved it. It wasn't what he would have chosen, but he wasn't about to reject the gesture by asking Brennan to change it. "That's what I've been calling her. Bones hates it."

"Tempe never liked any of the nicknames Chris and I gave her either. I'm surprised she lets you get away with calling her 'Bones'," Max told him with a smirk. "But you know what? I like it. It's cute. May I?" He held his arms out for the baby and after only a brief moment of hesitation Booth handed her over. "Hello, C.C. I'm your grandpa. You know, you look just like your mama when she was a baby. Those big blue eyes and all that reddish hair…"

"Not you too, Dad," Brennan complained, emerging from the bedroom in a high waisted dress that Booth recognised from early on in her pregnancy. "Her name is Celia."

"So I've heard." Max returned the baby to Booth so that he could embrace his daughter, pecking her cheek before stepping back to take her in. "You look great, honey. Are you sure you just had a baby?"

She frowned. "Where else would Celia have come from?"

"I don't know, maybe the stork brought her," Max joked.

Brennan's frown deepened. "Why would a stork abduct a human infant and then deliver it to my apartment?"

Max exchanged an amused look with Booth, who just shrugged. He was used to his girlfriend's literal mindedness. "Nevermind. What's for dinner?"

"Thai food," Brennan admitted. "I was going to cook a turkey but Celia is very demanding."

"Couldn't Booth take care of her?" Max asked, disappointed. "He is her father."

"She prefers my breasts," Brennan explained.

"So you decided to breastfeed? Good for you. Your mother breastfed both you and Russ, you know."

"Yes, I know," she agreed. "Mom told me."

"Can we stop saying the word 'breast'?" Booth complained. He was okay with the breastfeeding thing, but not okay enough to have this conversation with her dad.

"Booth is uncomfortable discussing anything to do with the reproductive system in front of company," Brennan explained, "although he does seem to enjoy watching me feed Celia."

Booth cringed inwardly as Max shifted his attention back to him. "Really, Booth?" he asked, cocking one eyebrow at him. "You like looking at my baby naked?"

If he said 'no', then he ran the risk or offending his girlfriend and maybe her father too. He'd never forgotten the way he asked him if the reason he wasn't sleeping with his daughter was because she wasn't attractive enough for him. And if he said 'yes', well, he wouldn't be the first person Max had killed. It was definitely a lose-lose situation. "You really want me to answer that?"he asked helplessly.

"Of course not," Max assured him. "I just like watching you squirm." He nodded at C.C. "You'll understand one day."

Booth shot him a disgruntled look.

"So, Booth, are you living here now?" Max asked, looking around the apartment as if searching for something to confirm his suspicions. "You seemed pretty at home before when you opened to door."

"Temporarily."He glanced over at Brennan to gauge her response. He wasn't sure if she wanted to make the announcement now or wait until they'd actually found a new place.

"Booth and I are buying a house in which to cohabitate," she chimed in, solving the dilemma for him.

"So you _are_ together?" Max said, glancing from one to the other. "I didn't wanna ask, in case… Everything is so complicated with you two."

Tell me about it, Booth thought. He was glad that those days seemed to be over and that they were finally on the same page.

"We've decided that we would like to raise Celia as a couple, as indicated by her combined surname," Brennan agreed. "We've also discussed the possibility of providing her with siblings in the future, although the final number is still yet to be determined."

"Well that is wonderful news," Max told them, breaking into a grin. He turned to Booth. "Does this mean you're planning to make an honest woman out of my daughter?"

"A little help here, Bones," Booth muttered. It wasn't like he hadn't tried.

"Booth has expressed his desire to get married as soon as possible, however I would like to wait," Brennan told her father.

"Just don't wait too long," he advised her. "Marrying your mom was the best thing I ever did – apart from having you kids, of course."

"Wait?" Booth repeated, still stuck on what she'd said, forcing himself to appear calm in case he'd misunderstood her. "You mean you're actually thinking about it?"

"Marriage may be an antiquated ritual, but as an anthropologist, I can see the logic in it," she agreed. "Marriage provides a sense of security, not just for the couple, but for their offspring as well." She shrugged, flashing him a diffident smile. "Besides, for the first time in my life, I find that I no longer have any inclination to be with anyone else."

Booth could have kissed her right then, but they weren't alone. "Bones, you just made me the happiest man on Earth," he told her.

"You can't possibly know that," she insisted.

"Fine, you just made me the happiest person in this room," he tried again.

Her smile grew until it mirrored his. "I doubt that."

* * *

_There will probably only be one more chapter after this (Parker) and then maybe a short epilogue to bring it to an even 40.  
_


	39. Chapter 39

_Thanks for the reviews. I apologise for the delay. One of the reasons for this is that in light of recent events (if you're not sure what I'm talking about go back and read my author's notes for chapters 33 and 34), I've decided to have my work betaed before posting. So a huge thank you to uscgal04 for her feedback on this chapter and for helping me with the initial brainstorming.  
_

* * *

Chapter 39.

Rebecca's door opened and Parker flew into Booth's arms, grinning widely. "Merry Christmas, Daddy!"

"Merry Christmas to you too, bub," Booth told him, catching his son in a hard hug.

He held him for a moment before releasing him. "Thanks for letting me borrow him for a few extra days," he told Rebecca when she appeared in the doorway behind Parker. He was a little surprised at how gracious she was when he called to explain the situation.

"No problem," she agreed with a knowing smile. "Just make sure you take lots of pictures." Turning to Parker, "and you," she added, placing her hands on their son's shoulders and pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, "I wanna hear all about it when you get home."

"I'll make sure to send him back with plenty of photos," Booth assured her, beaming.

He picked up his son's backpack up from where it was waiting by the door. "Got everything?" he asked.

"Yep!"

"Great, then let's go."

"Bye, Mom," Parker said, hugging his mother.

"Bye, Parker. I love you. Have fun with your dad and Dr. Brennan."

When they reached the parking lot, Parker made his way to the back of the car like usual. "You know what? You can ride up front today," Booth told him, opening the passenger's side door for him.

"Really?" Parker asked excitedly.

"Really." Booth helped him climb up into the high seat, making sure that he was buckled in securely before closing the door and walking around to his own side.

"You weren't supposed to have me on Christmas this year," Parker observed once they began moving_. _"Mom was. We were supposed to go skiing with Brent."

He made a face, and Booth struggled to suppress his grin at the disgust in his tone as he said the man's name. As much as he disliked Brent himself, he really shouldn't encourage his son to hate his mom's boyfriend; not when she'd always been friendly towards Brennan. "I know, but your mom agreed to bend the rules just this once because it's a special occasion."

"You mean because it's Christmas?" Parker supplied.

He decided to take a leaf out of his girlfriend's book and just honest. "That, and because Bones had the baby, which means you are officially a big brother now," he told him with an encouraging smile. "That's why you get to sit up front with me."

"Where is she?" Parker craned his neck to peer into the backseat as though he expected to see someone else there. "Why didn't she come with you?"

"Who, Bones?"

"No, the baby."

That's when it occurred to Booth that he was looking for a car seat. "Remember we talked about how babies like to sleep a lot?" he asked him. His son nodded. "Well she's at home with Bones taking a nap. Besides, I thought you and I could have some guy time. You know, grab some breakfast and figure out what we're gonna do today."

"Are Bones and the baby having girl time?" Parker asked.

Booth hadn't really thought of it that way. "I guess they are," he laughed. He was slightly apprehensive about leaving them alone after the way Brennan reacted last time, but she had assured him that she knew what she was doing now and that she would call him if she needed him to come home.

"But it's not as fun as guy time because they're just sleeping," Parker insisted.

Booth agreed easily, even though the idea of spending the morning relaxing with his two favourite girls was pretty tempting after waking up with the baby every couple of hours since they'd brought her home.

"I know you probably have a lot of questions right now," he began, a little more seriously, "so is there anything you wanna ask me before we go see them?"

"Are you and Bones still fighting?"

"No, bub, we made up after the baby was born."

"Did you kiss?"

Oh yeah. Booth smiled. "Yeah, we did."

His son screwed his face up in disgust. "Ew. I'm never gonna kiss a girl. Girls are gross."

"Are you sure about that, bub?" Booth teased him. "Because, y'know, I thought that too when I was your age."

"But you don't anymore?"

Booth shook his head. "No. Now I really _really_ like girls, especially Bones and your sister."

"And Mom."

"And Mom," Booth agreed.

"I like Mom and Bones, too."

They drove in silence for a few moments while Parker digested all of this, until finally, he said, "I'm glad you and Bones made up because I didn't like it when you were mad at each other."

"We didn't like it either, bub," Booth admitted, "but it's all okay now, so I don't want you to worry about it anymore. Today is a happy day – it's Christmas and you finally get to meet your new baby sister."

"What's her name?" Parker asked curiously.

"Her name is C.C. Celia Christine. What d'you think?"

"It's like the girl version of your name," his son pointed out. "Seeley, Celia."

"Well, that's because Bones thought it would be special to name her after me," Booth explained.

"How come I wasn't named after you?"

"Because you were named after a very good friend of mine from when I was in the army."

"Corporal Parker."

"That's right," Booth agreed, pleased that his son remembered the story. "He was very brave. He saved my life more than once. You would've liked him and he really would've liked you."

"Is C.C. a Booth like us?" Parker asked, steering the conversation back to the baby.

"Yes and no. Bones wanted her to have the same last name as her too so she's a Brennan-Booth."

"If you and Bones have more babies will they be Brennan-Booths too?"

Booth glanced over at his son is surprise. "What makes you think Bones and I are gonna have more babies?" he asked him. They hadn't discussed their plans with anyone except Max, and even then, nothing was decided yet.

"When Taylor Newton's dad got married he got a new sister and a brother," his son explained. "Does that mean I'm gonna get a baby brother too?"

Booth smiled to himself. Considering that he and Brennan had agreed to at least one spare room, it was a definite possibility, although he wasn't ready to share that information with his son just yet. They would tell him when the time was right. "Let's see how things go with C.C. first, okay? Then if we like having a baby in the house, maybe you'll get your brother. That sound good to you?"

Parker nodded. "Yeah."

* * *

When they finally arrived home, hours later, Booth stuck his head into the apartment to check that the coast was clear, noting with relief that each of the main living areas was empty. Brennan and C.C. must still be in the bedroom.

He ducked back out into the hall to where Parker was waiting. "We have to be really quiet so we don't wake Bones or the baby," he told him. "Do you think you can do that?"

Parker mimed locking his mouth and throwing away the key.

"Okay, you go first," Booth told him.

He opened the door for him while he entered carrying a small cardboard box that they'd retrieved from the top shelf of the hall closet in their apartment.

Once he'd set it down on the couch, Parker took over holding the door while Booth brought in the six foot tree that between them they'd managed to drag up the stairs, or rather that Booth had dragged up the stairs while Parker trailed behind, occasionally freeing the branches when they hit a snag. He was winded from the exertion, his back twinging under the strain, but he wasn't going to let that stop him from executing their plan. He couldn't wait to see the look on Brennan's face when she saw what they'd done for her.

"Where should we put it?"his son whispered.

"Where do you think?" Booth asked him.

Parker scanned the living room, considering their options, before finally pointing to an empty spot in the corner, between the small windows. "There."

Booth dutifully set the tree up where his son indicated, yanking his gloves off and shoving them into his coat pocket so that he could wipe the sweat from his palms. "How does that look?"

"Awesome!"

"It'll look even more awesome once we decorate it."

Booth used his keys to unseal the box and they worked quickly and quietly, transferring glittery baubles and kitschy plastic Santas to the branches of the tree, completing the effect with yards of silver and gold garland.

"You wanna do the star?" he asked Parker when everything else was in place; that was always his favourite part when he was little because he got to make a wish.

He wasn't tall enough to reach the uppermost branches on his own, so Booth picked him up by the armpits and lifted him over his head while he placed it atop the tree. His back groaned in protest at his son's weight; next year, he might have to talk him into giving his sister a turn.

Once it was finished, Booth slung an arm around his son's shoulders and they stepped back to admire it. It wasn't as glamorous as some of the trees you see adorning department store window displays, but it was theirs. And that made it beautiful.

They were still standing like that when Brennan padded into the living room, her clothes rumpled from sleep, the baby monitor tucked into the back pocket of her jeans."Hi, Parker," she greeted him. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Bones," his son echoed.

She glanced from him, to the tree, to Booth with a mystified smile. "What's going on?"

"We're making Christmas for C.C.!" Parker announced.

"It was Parker's idea," Booth explained, beaming at his son. "He wanted to get her a tree. He said it wasn't Christmas without one." Between the stress of their break up and their daughter's premature arrival, neither of them had given much thought to the holidays so he was glad that someone in the family had.

Brennan's puzzled expression turned to one of delight. "That was very considerate of you, Parker. You are an excellent big brother," she told him, bending down to give him a quick squeeze. "Thank you."

She straightened, cupping Booth's jaw tenderly in one palm and placing a soft, chaste kiss on his mouth. "And thank _you_."

"Don't thank me, I was just following orders," he insisted, winking at his son eliciting a huge grin from him.

A loud wail erupted over the monitor.

"Is that her?" Parker asked.

"Yeah, that means she's awake," Booth agreed.

"I'll go," Brennan told him with a pointed look. "She's probably hungry."

"She didn't take any food," Parker remarked once she had disappeared into the their bedroom where their daughter had been sleeping.

"That's because moms make a special kind of food just for their babies," Booth explained.

"Did Mom make special food for me when I was a baby?"

"Yeah, she did," he agreed.

"How come she doesn't anymore?"

Booth didn't want to get into a long discussion about the mechanics of breastfeeding. Better to let Brennan handle that one. "Because you have teeth now so you can eat grown up food like pizza and hotdogs…"

"And broccoli." Parker made a disgusted face.

"Hey, at least you get to try different things," Booth told him. "Your sister has to eat the same thing everyday."

"Maybe that's why babies cry all the time," Parker suggested.

Booth grinned at his theory. He would have to remember to repeat it to Brennan later when they were alone. "You know what, bub? It probably is," he agreed.

Just then, Brennan reappeared with the little green bundle that was their daughter in her arms. "There's someone that your father and I would like you to meet," she told his son, crouching in front of him so that he could see the baby more clearly. "Parker, this is Celia. Celia, this is your big brother, Parker."

He moved closer to get a better look at the tiny face peering out from the folds of her bunny rug. "She's so little."

"That's how big you were the first time I saw you," Booth told him.

His son reached out his hand, freezing uncertainly before it made contact. "Can I touch her?" he asked.

"Of course," Brennan agreed.

"Daddy says I have to be gentle." As if to illustrate his point, he stroked her cheek tentatively with the tip of one finger.

"You can hold her if you would like," Brennan offered.

He glanced from her up to Booth, seeking approval. "Go ahead, bub," Booth urged him. "You won't hurt her."

"Okay," he agreed with a hesitant smile.

Brennan grinned back at him. "Come with me," she told him.

He followed her over to the couch, climbing onto the cushion beside her. "Hold out your arms." He did as instructed and she lowered the baby carefully into them, showing him how to arrange them so that they were both comfortable. "All babies are born with underdeveloped neck muscles so you need to make sure that her head is supported at all times."

"I won't let go, I promise," Parker assured her. He peeled back the blanket covering all but her head so that he could inspect her. "Hi, C.C. It's me, Parker – your big brother. I read to you when you were inside Bones' tummy, remember?" He shifted his to Brennan_. _"Do you think she remembers?" he asked her.

"It's unlikely that she remembers the book, but it's entirely possible that she remembers your voice," she told him. "Scientists have discovered that a foetus's heart rate increases when its mother converses with it, so vocal recognition is present before birth."

"Really?"

"Bones doesn't lie," Booth assured him. "See the way C.C. is looking right at you? I bet she can tell that you're someone who's gonna take really good care of her, because y'know, she's really helpless right now, so she's gonna need her big brother to look out for her. Can we trust you to do that?"

His son nodded. "I'll keep her safe from the bad guys just like you, Dad," he told him earnestly and Booth struggled to hold back the tears in his eyes.

Brennan must have caught them because she got up from the couch and came over to stand beside him. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

"Why wouldn't I be? I have the best kid in the world." He slipped his arm around her waist, hugging her to his side. "_We_ have the best kid in the world." For all intents and purposes, Brennan was Parker's stepmom and he doubted that he could have chosen a better one. He had long envied her easy interactions with his son: the boundless patience she displayed when answering his questions, developed over years of brushing dirt off old bones; the way that she managed to come up with responses that were both honest and comforting; her uncanny ability to view almost any situation from his perspective…

He looked down at his daughter, lying placidly in her brother's arms. "No, you know what? We have the best kids in the world."

He could hear the smile in Brennan's voice as she said,"I am inclined to agree."

He turned his head to look at her in surprise. "Really? You're not gonna say something anthropological about parental blindness?"

"Neither of us is blind, Booth," she pointed out.

"I meant figurative blindness," he explained. "You know, like how some parents think their kid is perfect when really they're not?" They saw it all the time in their line of work.

"No one is perfect, Booth," she agreed. "Logic suggests that he must have flaws, but you're right, I can't see any. He's so much like you."

That might be the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to him. "I love you," he told her.

"So you've said."

"I mean it, Bones," he insisted, in case she still had any doubts. "I love you."

"I love you too."

He took hold on her arm, turning her towards him, momentarily forgetting everything else that was happening around them as he brushed his lips tenderly over hers.

"Daaad!" Parker's voice complained, reminding them of his presence. "You're not allowed to be all kissy kissy with Bones when me and C.C. are in the room."

His outburst caused Booth and Brennan to chuckle against each other.

"Sorry, bub, I forgot," Booth told him, trying to look as solemn and chastised as possible, even though he was sure that his son must be able to see his smirk. "We'll pick this up later," he murmured to Brennan, placing on last furtive kiss on her closed mouth before he pulled away.

"What d'you say we see what Santa brought you and your sister, huh?" he suggested, moving over to retrieve a pile of neatly wrapped packages from one of the end tables.

"Then can we do ours?" Parker asked.

"Sure."

Brennan took the baby back from Parker and Booth handed the biggest one to him. "This one is yours." He set the smaller one on the arm beside him. "This one is C.C.'s but you're gonna have to open it for her, okay?"

"Okay!" he agreed, not really listening.

"And we've lost him," he said to Brennan, sitting down on the arm of her chair. His son was so mature sometimes that it was easy to forget that he was still an eight year old boy.

She didn't say anything, watching Parker wrestle the paper off his gift with an indecipherable expression.

"You okay there, Bones?" Booth asked her.

At first, her only response was a slight shake of her head, and then she confessed, "Perhaps it's just due to postpartum hormones, but I keep thinking, this is what it's like to have a family. I didn't for so long, and now… Sometimes it's still hard to believe this is really happening, that I... that _we_ are really doing this."

Parker was too absorbed in opening his gifts to pay much attention to them; Booth dropped a kiss to her temple, allowing his lips to linger there for a moment. "Me either, but it is, and we are and I am so grateful for that."

"When should we tell him?" she asked quietly.

"About us moving in together? We should probably give him some time to get used to C.C. first, but y'know, as long as he gets his own room at the new house and it has a pool, I think he'll be fine with it. He loves you. In the car on the way over he told me he hates it when we fight."

Her eyes travelled back over to his son and she smiled. "You realise it's going to be extremely difficult to find a four or five bedroom house with a pool in the price range you set?" she pointed out. "At least here in Washington."

"So what are you suggesting?" he asked, eyeing her warily. "That we use some of the money from your books?"

She shrugged. "I'm just saying it's an option. Technically, it belongs to you too now since you are my significant other." She regarded him with a sly grin. "And because you provided the inspiration for Andy."

Booth felt his jaw drop at this unexpected confession. "Oh, wow, so you finally admit it?" He wished that he had a video camera or a voice recorder so that he could get this moment on tape. He was sure that their friends would love to hear it as well, though years of speculation around the lab had made that a moot point by now.

Her look was impatient, but he could see that she was trying hard not to smile. "Would you prefer that I continued to deny it now that we are romantically involved?"

"Fair enough," he agreed. He was glad that she was daydreaming about him when she wrote all those scenes and not some other guy, otherwise he might have had to pay him a visit. "That still doesn't mean I want to spend the royalties on a house, though. We might have great kids now, but they're not gonna stay that way if we spoil them."

"I hardly think that purchasing a home for our children constitutes spoiling them, Booth," she argued. "By your logic, we should all live in a one room shack in the middle of nowhere so as not to expose them to anything that might encourage them to develop a sense of entitlement."

"All I'm saying is, what's wrong with a little house in the suburbs?"

"You know how I feel about suburbia, Booth," she complained.

"Come on, Bones, it'll be great," he continued, the corners of his mouth twitching as he struggled to keep his composure. "The kids can get a dog, you can join a sewing circle, we'll have barbeques on the weekends…"

She lifted a hand from C.C.'s back to swat his arm. "That's not funny! Don't even joke about it, Booth!"

"But you make it so easy!" he teased her, snorting as he tried and failed to hold his laughter in.

Parker glanced over at them at the sound of raised voices. "Are you two fighting again?"

"No, bub, we're not," Booth assured him, still in a half chuckle. "We were just talking." For some reason they could never seem to have a calm discussion about anything – from which toothpaste to buy, to where to live –without it turning into a verbal sparring match, but then he wouldn't have it any other way.

He waited until Parker returned to what he was doing to resume the conversation. "You know what? We'll figure it out." All that mattered was that they were together.

She broke into a grin to match his. "We always do."

* * *

_So that's it, only one more chapter after this which will basically be an epilogue set approximately a year later. At this stage I have no plans for a sequel but I might consider writing one if I can find the right idea. Thank you all for reading and reviewing, and especially to everyone who stuck with this story through the good times and the bad - I promised that it would all be worth it in the end and I hope that it was._

_For those of you who haven't already, please check out my season one AU 'Ten Days in Paradise' which begins at the end of The Man in the Wall. In addition to finishing that, I'll be launching my first ever case fic: a post Hole in the Heart AU called 'Collateral Damage', which will feature Booth and Brennan dealing with their new relationship while Broadsky targets someone close to them.  
_


	40. Chapter 40

_Thanks for the reviews._ _As promised, here is the final (fluffy) chapter. Hopefully_ _it's worth the wait, which you can blame on me starting a new job. ;)_

* * *

Epilogue.

The back door swung open and a tiny figure emerged from the house.

"Celia!" her mother's voice called after her. "Celia, come back inside! You're not dressed appropriately for this weather!"

The little girl – who was only wearing her diaper and a grubby yellow t-shirt – shrieked in triumph when she spotted her father and brother. They were camped out at the long table, blowing up balloons for the party the family was hosting later that day. Booth broke into grin as his daughter changed directions, toddling across the deck towards them as fast as her short legs could carry her.

To her mother's pride and dismay, not only was C.C. an early walker, but she seemed to have inherited Brennan's wilful stubbornness. Since she became mobile, a great deal of Booth's, Brennan's, and sometimes even Parker's time was spent chasing her from room to room while she fled from baths, naps, and anything else that she decided to boycott.

"Celia!" Brennan called again, appearing in the doorway behind her, her voice rising in exasperation. "I told you to come back here. You need to sleep or you'll be irritable tonight."

"Relax, Bones – she's fine," Booth assured her, holding his arms out to catch their daughter as she hurtled towards him. "Aren't you, boo boo? You can share Daddy's coat." He hoisted her up onto his lap, pulling the edges of his coat around her so that only her big blue eyes and the top of her auburn head were visible.

Brennan crossed the deck to where her family was sitting. "You know I hate it when you call her that, Booth," she complained with a wry smile.

"You also hate it when I call her C.C." he reminded her.

"Her name is Celia," she protested feebly for what he was sure must be the billionth time by now.

"So you keep telling me."

"Only because you never use it."

"I never use your name either, Bones," he teased her, emphasising the moniker that he'd given her.

She sighed. "I gave up trying to win that battle seven years ago."

"Well you can forget about winning this one as well because she's my little C.C. boo boo, aren't you?" he crooned, plastering the baby's face with wet, noisy kisses while she squirmed and squealed with delight.

He glanced up at Brennan in time to catch her rolling her eyes in mock annoyance. "You do that on purpose, just to irritate me."

He flashed her his most disarming grin. "Never."

She rewarded him with a crooked grin of her own. "Your father is a liar, Celia," she told their daughter without taking her eyes off Booth.

Still shaking her head, she turned in a slow half circle to survey the deck. "It looks like you're almost done," she remarked.

Booth caught his son's eye across the table. "Well we make a pretty good team, don't we, bub?"

Parker nodded. "Uh huh," he agreed, tying off the end of his balloon and adding it to the ever-growing pile on the table. "Do you like it, Bones?"

Brennan smiled. "Yes. Both of you did excellent work."

Parker looked relieved. "Does that mean I can go inside and play Playstation now?" he asked, already half rising from his chair.

"Is spending time with your old man really that bad?" Booth complained, feigning hurt. At nine years old, his son was already looking for ways to assert his independence. He was glad that was still a long way off with C.C.

Parker looked uncertainly from Booth to Brennan and back again.

"Booth, let him go," Brennan laughed. As Parker made a beeline for the house, she called after him, "You may eat one cupcake, but the rest are for the party."

His only acknowledgement was a shouted "Awesome! Thanks!" as he disappeared into the kitchen, the door slamming in his wake.

"What do you think, Miss C.C.? Does it meet your approval?" Booth asked his daughter when he was gone, offering her one of the balloons. As soon as it was in her hands, she let it drift to the deck at his feet, blinking in surprise when it burst. Booth held his breath, waiting for the tears to start, but she just glanced up at him with a toothy grin as if to ask if she could do it again.

"Her vocabulary is extremely limited, Booth," Brennan reminded him. "Even if she could understand what you're asking, she would still lack the vocal skills to formulate an intelligible response."

"I just wanna make sure today is a day that she'll never forget." Their little girl was already growing up and he was determined to enjoy it all while he could.

"The limbic system doesn't develop until the age of at least two so it's unlikely that she will remember any of this," she informed him.

"It's our daughter's first birthday, Bones. Can we leave 'Dr. Brennan' at the lab? You're not a scientist today, okay? Today you're just 'Mommy'. Here." He slipped his arms out of his coat and wrapped it around their daughter, handing her off to Brennan while he finished hanging the balloons.

She settled C.C. on her hip, her expression changing, growing soft as the baby sagged against her, pressing her cheek to her shoulder. "Look, Celia," she said in what Booth liked to call her 'Mommy voice' even though she swore that she didn't have one. Despite her frequent lectures on 'motherese' and its impact on their daughter's verbal development, he often caught her talking to her that way. "Look at all the aesthetically-pleasing decorations your father and Parker put up just for you. They did a good job, didn't they? Although it is a gender-based assumption that just because you're female, you must be partial to the colour pink. I myself prefer green."

She trailed off when she noticed Booth raising his eyebrow at her."What?"

"How is that any different to what I just did?" Sure she'd used bigger words, but the general gist was the same.

"You asked her for her opinion."

"So did you," he pointed out. "You realise she has no idea what you're talking about when you say things like 'aesthetically-pleasing' and 'gender-based assumption'?"

"I just don't want her to feel constrained by traditional gender norms, Booth," she explained with a troubled expression that made him smile.

Any apprehension that he'd felt at the beginning had evaporated over the past twelve months as he watched her grow into her new roles as a mother and stepmother. "Somehow, I'm not worried about that."

* * *

That evening, Booth stood at the head of the table with Brennan, surveying the eclectic group of people gathered on the deck. There was him, Brennan, C.C., and Parker, of course, Max, Russ and Amy and their children, Pops, Jared and Padme, Angela and Hodgins, Cam and Michelle, Sweets and Daisy and other assorted squinterns.

He tapped his glass with his spoon to get their attention, waiting until everyone's eyes were on him to begin. "Bones and I would like to thank you all for coming here today to celebrate our beautiful daughter Celia Christine Brennan-Booth – known to most of you as C.C. –'s first year of life. We're very lucky to have such wonderful family and friends."

Beside him, Brennan looked down at their daughter – who was seated in her lap, sucking on the chunky pendant of her necklace – and smiled, smoothing a cowlick tenderly back from her forehead. She whispered something into her ear that he couldn't quite catch, punctuating it with a soft kiss to her temple.

"With that in mind, I would like to propose a toast. To C.C. – may she be as lucky as we are."

His words were followed by a chorus of 'To C.C.'s from everyone except Brennan, who obstinately insisted on 'To Celia'.

After dinner, Brennan brought out the cake and once all of the guests were served, she allowed C.C. to mash the leftovers gleefully with her fists.

When the party moved into the house, all three of them – Booth, Brennan and Parker – took turns sitting on the living room floor with her, unwrapping her gifts and showing them to her. As far as Booth could tell, her favourite was the baby doll that Cam and Michelle had picked out for her, which he was sure Brennan would have plenty to say about. She carried it around with her for the rest of the night, dragging it along the carpet behind her when she was too tired to hold it up anymore.

Later, when everyone had gone home or to their hotels, and the kids were upstairs asleep, C.C. with the doll tucked into her crib beside her, Booth and Brennan worked together in silence to gather up the trash and put the empty plates and glasses into the dishwasher. The decorations, they would leave until morning, when Booth figured they could just set Parker loose on the balloons. What nine-year-old boy wouldn't love that?

"What a day, huh?" he said, shoving aside a pile of pink and white wrapping paper so that he could sit down.

Brennan dropped into the space beside him, hugging a throw cushion to her chest. "Celia seemed to enjoy herself. Although I doubt she understands why everyone was being so indulgent of her, she appears to derive satisfaction from being the centre of attention."

"I wonder where she gets that from?" he teased her, bumping her shoulder with his. "Because, you know, it wasn't me."

"I'm a world-renowned forensic anthropologist and a bestselling author," she reminded him. "The attention I receive comes from being exceptional in my field."

"Yeah, but admit it, you like it."

"Of course I like it," she agreed. "I worked hard to establish myself in my career."

"As much as you like this kind of attention?" He leant over and kissed her sweetly.

She grinned as he pulled back. "No. This kind of attention is much better."

He closed the distance between them, kissing her again, more leisurely this time, until she pushed him away gently but firmly. "Can I ask you something?"

He was tempted to point out that she just did, like she would have if the situation were reversed, but sensing that whatever she wanted to talk about was serious, he held his tongue. "Shoot."

Her brows knitted together in confusion. "I'm assuming since you don't have your gun that you mean that metaphorically?"

"What was the question you wanted to ask me, Bones?" he repeated in plain English this time.

"Do you still have that ring?"

"What ring?"

"The one you bought when I was pregnant with Celia."

In the year since their daughter was born, he'd successfully managed to forget its existence, contenting himself with the fact that they were committed to each other in every other way but in God's eyes and the law. "It's in the gun safe. Why?"

She fixed him with a meaningful look. "I'm ready for you to give it to me now."

It took him a moment to process her words and then he could barely contain his grin. "Bones, are you serious? You want me to propose to you?"

She looked slightly taken aback by his question. "Why would I say it if I wasn't serious?"

"What I mean is, you're sure? Because honestly, Bones, I don't think I could take it if you turned me down a second time."

She nodded. "After considering it carefully, I have decided that I would like to marry you before giving birth again," she explained.

"You're not…? You're pregnant?" he asked, struggling to reign in his enthusiasm at the idea.

"No, not yet," she assured him, "but I would like to begin trying to conceive again as soon as possible." She searched his expression, sounding less sure of herself as she added, "That is if you still want another child?"

"Hell yeah," he told her, drawing out the last word. He couldn't think of anything better than another little boy or girl with her and C.C.'s brilliant blue eyes. "As long as I get to knock you up the old-fashioned way this time."

"Of course," she agreed seriously. "Although I object to your use of that colloquialism," she added, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "I'm glad that we're in agreement, because with your approval, I would like to cease using preventative measures."

"You mean you wanna throw away your birth control pills?"

"That's what I said."

"Sure, I told you, I'm ready whenever you are, but didn't you just say you want to get married first?" When she first said that she wanted to try, he figured she meant in a few months, when things had settled down.

"It's unlikely that I'll become pregnant right away, Booth. It can take a healthy couple anywhere up to a year to conceive. We'll still have plenty of time to plan a wedding."

"You know, that's what you said last time and look what happened," he teased her. What a difference a year made. Before, he had dreaded the thought of a pregnancy, but now, he couldn't wait to see her like that again. She didn't believe him, of course, but he still maintained that she had never looked more beautiful than when she was pregnant.

"That was through intrauterine insemination. The odds were in our favour."

"And they're not this time?"

"We're both older now."

"Thirty-four isn't old, Bones. Trust me." He wished he was thirty-four. As thrilled as he was at the prospect of expanding their brood, he couldn't help thinking that he would be almost sixty by the time his third child graduated high school; older still if they decided to keep going.

"I'm almost thirty-five."

"So?"

"A woman's fertility decreases rapidly once she reaches the age of thirty-five, while the risk of miscarriage and birth defects increases."

He took her hand, lacing his fingers gently through hers. "Hey, don't worry about it, okay? You already got pregnant once – there's no reason for us to think that it won't happen again or that we won't have another beautiful, healthy baby."

She stared down at her lap, avoiding his eyes.

"What?" he insisted, concerned that she was keeping something from him. "Whatever it is, Bones, you can tell me."

"In cases where the maternal age is more than thirty-five, it's considered a 'geriatric pregnancy'," she explained quickly, still not quite looking at him.

Was that all? "You're kidding me? That's why you're so desperate to get pregnant before your next birthday? Because you don't want some doctor calling you old?" He stifled a laugh at her stricken expression. "Does that mean instead of maternity clothes, we're gonna have to buy you a walking stick and some of those orthopaedic shoes?" He resisted the urge to make more jokes at her expense, cowed by the death glare she was giving him. "Sorry. I promise I won't make fun of you when you're pregnant."

"Angela says that it's traditional for women to relegate their mates to the couch when they act in a way that they deem to be insensitive. Perhaps you would like to sleep on the couch until the baby is born?" she suggested innocently.

"That's going to make it very difficult for you to get pregnant," he told her with a wicked smirk, confident that she wouldn't do anything of the sort.

* * *

"I'd forgotten what this feels like," Booth remarked, leaning back in his chair with a contented sigh.

It was New Years Eve, and he and Brennan were sitting at a window table of an Italian place a block over from their usual haunts, finishing their respective desserts.

"Eating dinner?"

"Eating out."

"We eat at the diner all the time," Brennan pointed out, sipping her soda. Booth had tried to convince her that one glass of wine wouldn't hurt her since as far as they knew she wasn't actually pregnant yet, but she was adamant that alcohol could have a detrimental effect on a woman's fertility.

"With Parker and the baby," he reminded her. "When was the last time it was just the two of us?" The math wasn't that hard considering they had a one-year-old daughter at home. The only reason they were able to go out tonight was because Max had generously offered to give them a night to themselves in exchange for spending time with his favourite granddaughter.

"Dinners like this are likely to become less frequent once we have a newborn in the house again," she noted.

"That's why we should make the most of tonight," he agreed.

She leaned across the table towards him, her blue eyes dancing with mischief. "Are you suggesting that we have sex in the bathroom? Because that could be very exciting."

Trust her mind to go _there_. "I was thinking more like a walk," he explained. Not only would he prefer to make love to her in the privacy of their own home, but the ring was burning a – metaphorical – hole in the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Right," she said with a knowing grin. "You want to propose without creating a public spectacle."

While the proposal itself wouldn't come as a surprise, he had hoped to wait for a time when she wasn't expecting it. He should have known that she was too smart not to realise what he was up to. "Bones," he complained. "Can we just pretend that you don't know about that?"

She cringed slightly. "Sorry, Booth. You should carry on as planned. I won't mention it again."

He called for the check and handed over his credit card, relieved that she didn't try to challenge him over it. If ever there was a time to be gallant, it was the night you proposed to the woman you loved.

Outside the restaurant, she slipped her hand into his and they strolled aimlessly through the neighbourhood while he considered his options. She was right when she guessed that he wanted it to be intimate; somewhere beautiful and romantic but still private enough that they wouldn't be bothered by curious onlookers.

By Fate or just good luck, they ended up at the National Mall where they'd whiled away so many afternoons and evenings together before C.C.'s birth changed the dynamic of their relationship forever.

"Here?"she asked when he pulled her to a stop in front of "their" bench, seeming to forget her promise.

"Unless you have somewhere better in mind?"he agreed.

She shook her head. "Here is fine. Actually, here is perfect," she said, looking around.

"In that case…" He got down on one knee, reaching into his pocket for the ring; watching her watch him expectantly, he couldn't help but grin at the absurdity of the situation. It wasn't exactly traditional, but since when had they done anything according to tradition?"I had a speech prepared, but now that we're here, I think I just wanna speak from my heart," he told her. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could correct him, he added, "I know the heart is only a muscle, but just go with it, okay, Bones?" There was nothing scientific about what he was asking her.

"Okay," she agreed, waiting patiently for him to continue.

"When we first got together, you asked me how you can be sure that you're in love with someone. Do you remember what I said?"

"You said you know when you can't imagine any future without that person in it."

"I meant every word of it," he assured her. "I want to make another baby with you and then I want to raise all three of our children with you. I want to grow old with you and make love with you and bicker with you every day for the rest of my life, because you're not just my partner, Bones, or my girlfriend, or the mother of my child, you're the best friend I've ever had, and I can't imagine my future without you." He cracked the lid of the box open, affording her her first real view of the ring. "Temperance Brennan, will you join me in the antiquated ritual of marriage?"

She laughed at his gentle ribbing, nodding vigorously. "I would be honoured, Booth," she told him, proffering her left hand. "And for the record, I concur with everything you just said."

Even though he'd already had a pretty good idea of what she was going to say, Booth felt his face split into a huge grin as he freed the ring from its cushion and slid it onto her finger. Then he scrambled back to his feet and took her in his arms, kissing her for the first time as her fiance.

When they finally broke from each other, still grinning like idiots, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, preparing to make their way back to the restaurant where his car was waiting for them. "Now that that's settled, what d'you say we go home and get to work on that baby?"

* * *

_Thank you again to everyone who read and reviewed. This story is the longest thing I've ever written (this chapter brought it up to the 100,000 word mark), which wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for the positive response I've received. I'm sad that it's over but it feels like the right time to let it go. Don't forget to check out my other fic 'Ten Days in Paradise'. I'm also working with my wonderful beta, uscgal04, on plotting the Broadsky fic I mentioned last time so look out for that too.  
_


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